ifornia 
nal 


m 


MEMOIR 


SARAH  B.  JUDSON, 


MEMBER  OF    THE 


ission  to 


JForestct. 


THIRD    THOUSAND. 


NB  W-TORK: 
L.COLBY    AND    COMPANY, 

122  NASSAU-STREET. 

-   1848. 


ENTERED,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year 
1848,  by 

L.    COLBY    AND   COMPANY, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United 
States,  for  the  Southern  District  of  New-York. 


CONTENTS. 


PASS. 

PREFACE 3 

THE  SUBJECT 5 

CHAPTER         I. — Early  Days 7 

CHAPTER       II.— A  New  Life 18 

CHAPTER     III.— The  Consecration 30 

CHAPTER     IV.— Contrasts 46 

CHAPTER      V. — Maulmain 62 

CHAPTER     VI.— Tavoy 74 

CHAPTER   VIL— Little  Sarah 86 

CHAPTER  VIII.— The  Kevolt 96 

CHAPTER    IX.— Withering  and  Watching 114 

CHAPTER     X.— "Death  in  the  Jungle" 124 

CHAPTER    XI  — The  Female  Missionary 147 

CHAPTER  XII.— A  New  Home 172 

CHAPTER  XIII.— The  Mother  and  Child 187 

CHAPTER  XIV.— Trial  on  Trial 207 

CHAPTER  XV.— The  Christian's  Death 232 


2030024 


PIIEFACE. 


IT  has  occurred  to  me,  in  glancing  over  the  little 
narrative  I  have  prepared,  that  those  friends  of  Mrs. 
Judson  who  have  kindly  furnished  copies  of  her 
verses,  may  be  disappointed  at  seeing  so  few  of 
them  selected  for  use.  Readers  of  another  class 
will  regret  that  more  of  the  minute  particulars  of 
her  missionary-life  are  not  given ;  as,  the  precise 
number  of  schools  in  which  she  was  at  different 
times  engaged,  her  efforts  for  individual  conversion, 
&c.  &c.  Others  again,  will  recollect  the  letters 
which  were  so  interesting  to  them,  and,  forgetting 
that  very  few  can  read  them  with  their  eyes  and 
hearts,  will  wonder  that  such  pleasant  memorials 
of  her  they  loved  should  not  be  placed  within  the 
reach  of  all. 

To  each  of  these  I  would  reply,  that  in  taking  a 
view  of  her  whole  life,  my  first  aim  has  been  to 
preserve  the  nice  balance,  the  faultless  symmetry 
of  her  character ;  to  present  her  as  she  appeared 
under  all  circumstances — the  Woman  and  the 
Christian.  And,  in  the  second  place,  I  have 
thought  it  not  amiss  to  make  some  sacrifices  to 
brevity.  She  had  a  poetic  eye  and  heart — a  ge- 
nial love  for  the  flowers,  the  streams,  the  stars,  the 
beautiful  in  nature  and  whatever  is  pure  and  ele- 
vated in  man — but  she  was  not  a  mere  poetess. 
As  a  Christian,  she  was  most  ardently  attached  to 


IV  PREFACE. 

the  service  which  occupied  so  large  a  portion  of 
her  life ;  but  it  would  be  unjust  to  represent  her 
in  the  light  of  a  mere  missionary.  If  she  had  kept 
a  journal,  however,  many  interesting  circumstances, 
now  buried  in  the  grave  with  her,  would  doubtless 
have  been  elicited;  and  her  missionary  course 
might  have  been  more  distinctly  traced. 

The  peculiar  character  of  her  letters  has  been 
mentioned  elsewhere ;  but  in  recurring  to  them  here, 
it  may  be  proper  to  remark,  that  names  and  dates 
have  been  usually  omitted,  because  the  quotations 
are  so  short  and  frequent  that  their  insertion  would 
give  the  page  the  air  of  a  chronological  table.  For 
brevity's  sake,  I  have  taken  the  liberty,  in  two  or 
three  instances,  of  incorporating  a  quotation  from 
one  letter  with  some  sentence  from  another  on  the 
same  subject;  and  have  sometimes  dropped  a 
clause  having  no  direct  bearing  on  the  point  which 
I  wished  to  elucidate.  Entire  letters,  however, 
stand  precisely  as  she  wrote  them. 

Yet  another  reason  may  be  added  for  having  in- 
troduced her  poems  so  sparingly.  Unfinished  as 
they  were,  they  did  not  meet  the  approval  of  her 
own  cultivated  taste  ;  and,  after  she  left  America, 
none  were  ever  published  by  her  permission.  My 
selections  have  usually  been  made  with  reference 
to  some  circumstance  in  her  life  ;  and,  among  the 
various  copies  of  these  in  my  possession,  I  have  of 
course  preferred  that  which  seemed  in  my  own 
judgment  the  best. 

Rangoon,  June  1st,  1847. 


"  SARAH  BOARDMAN  JTJDSON,  was  torn  at  Alstead,  in 
the  State  of  New- Hampshire,  Nov.  4,  1803.  She  -was 
the  eldest  child  of  Ralph  and  Abiah  Hall,  -who  still 
survive  her,  and  at  present  reside  in  Skaneateles,  in. 
the  State  of  New- York.  While  Sarah  was  "but  a 
child,  her  parents  removed  from  Alstead  to  Danvers, 
and  subsequently  to  Salem,  in  the  State  of  Massa- 
chusetts. In  the  latter  place  she  received  her  edu- 
cation and  continued  to  reside,  until  she  was  married 
to  the  Rev.  George  Dana  Boardman,  July  4,  1825, 
with  whom  she  embarked  the  same  month  for  the 
East  Indies,  to  join  the  American  missionaries  in 
Burmah.  After  residing  some  time  at  Calcutta  and 
Maulmain,  they  settled  in  Tavoy,  April  1,  1828. 
During  her  residence  in  Calcutta  and  Tavoy  she  had 
three  children,  of  whom  one  only,  George  Dana 
Boardman,  Jr.,  "born  August  18,  1828,  survives  her. 
She  lost  her  husband  Feb.  11,  1831,  and  was  married 
again  to  Adoniram  Judson,  of  Maulmain,  April  10, 
1834.  At  Maulmain  she  "became  the  mother  of  eight 


6  MEMOIR  OF  SARAH  B.  JUDSON. 

children,  of  whom  five  survive  her.  After  tlie  "birth 
of  her  last  child,  in  Dec.,  1844,  she  -was  attacked  with 
chronic  diarrhoea,  from  -which  she  had  suffered 
much  in  the  early  part  of  her  missionary  life.  When 
in  the  progress  of  the  disease,  it  "became  evident  that 
nothing  "but  a  long  voyage  and  an  entire  change  of 
climate  could  save  her  life,  she  embarked  with  her 
hus"band  and  three  elder  children  for  America,  April 
26,  1845.  The  voyage  was  at  first  attended  with 
encouraging  results,  "but  finally  proved  unavailing ; 
and  she  departed  this  life  on  ship-hoard,  in  the  port 
of  St.  Helena,  Sept.  1,  1846." 

BAPTIST   MISSIONARY   MAGAZINE. 


Chapter  I.— EARLY  DAY'S. 

•'  Well,  let  it  "be,  through  weal  and  woe, 
Thou  know'st  not  now4;hy  future  range  , 

Life  is  a  motley,  shifting^show, — 

And  thou  a  thing  of  hope  and  change." 

Joanjia  Baillie. 

HERE  are  many  persons  yet  living, 
that  have  a  distinct  remembrance 
of  a  fair  young  girl,  who  years  ago 
had  her  home  in  the  pleasant  town 
of  Salem,  Massachusetts.  She  came  thither, 
(to  use  her  own  pretty  words,  penned  in  early 
childhood,)  from  among  "  beautiful  groves,  or- 
chards filled  with  fruit  trees,  and  gently  gliding 
streams ;"  and  she  expresses,  in  the  same  con- 
nection, some  dissatisfaction  with  exchanging 
all  these  pleasant  things,  for  "  nothing  but 
houses  and  steeples."  If  you  question  those 
who  have  her  portrait  in  their  hearts,  they 
will  speak  of  faultless  features,  moulded  on 
the  Grecian  model  ;  of  beautifully  transpa- 


MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.   JUDSON. 

rent  skin ;  warm,  meek,  blue  eyes ;  and  soft 
hair,  "  brown  in  the  shadow,  and  gold  in  the 
sun."  But  affection  has  garnered  up  memories 
of  so  much  greater  richness,  that  you  can  learn 
nothing  of  these  things,  except  upon  inquiry. 
The  little  girl  was  no  favorite  of  fortune,  (that 
is,  fortune  on  the  golden  side,)  for  there  were 
many  mouths  to  feed  in  her  father's  house, 
and  the  means  were  scanty.  She  was  the  eldest 
of  thirteen  sons  and  daughters  ;  and  while  those 
nearest  her  own  age  were  yet  in  the  cradle, 
the  stern  lesson  was  begun,  and  little  Sarah 
became  inured  to  toil  and  care.  A  tiny 
manuscript  volume,  traced  in  carefully-formed 
characters,  almost  the  only  relic  of  her  busy 
childhood,  lies  beside  me  as  I  write ;  and  al- 
though there  are  no  complainings  on  its  pages, 
there  are  words  which  give  us,  in  simple  sen- 
tences, whole  tales  replete  with  meaning.  f  "  My 
mother  cannot  spare  me  to  attend  school  this 
winter  ;  but  I  have  begun  this  evening  to  pursue 
my  studies  at  home."  Again,  the  ensuing  spring : 
"  My  parents  are  not  in  a  situation  to  send  me 
to  school  this  summer  ;  so  I  must  make  every 
exertion  in  my  power  to  improve  at  home." 
These  entries,  made  in  a  miniature  day-book, 
at  an  age  when  few  children  can  frame  a  cor- 
rect sentence,  bring  before  us  a  series  of  strug- 


EARLY    DAYS. 


gles,  which  affection  may  be  allowed  to  contem- 
plate with  a  proud  sorrow.  A  mind  less  richly 
endowed  must  have  sunk  to  the  level  of  daily 
toil  ;  but  not  so  hers.  Though  shrinkingly 
modest,  she  had  yet  an  elasticity  of  spirit,  an 
inner  vigour  and  hopefulness  which,  all  silently, 
buoyed  her  up,  and  pushed  her  onward  ;  and  to 
this  she  gradually  added  habits  of  patient  in- 
dustry and  quiet  endurance.  Improvement — 
intellectual  improvement,  was  at  this  time  the 
one  grand  object,  apart  from  the  performance  of 
the  duties  of  the  day,  which  occupied  her  en- 
tire attention,  the  nucleus  of  thought  and  ac- 
tion. A  few  years  later  than  the  date  of  the 
little  day-book,  we  find  in  a  note  to  a  friend  the 
following  suggestion  :  "  I  feel  very  anxious  to 
adopt  some  plan  for  our  mutual  improvement. 
I  think  it  might  be  useful  for  us  to  write  to 
each  other  frequently ;  and  let  the  subject  be 
something  from  the  Holy  Scriptures.  You  se- 
lect some  passage  which  is  not  easily  compre- 
hended, and  send  it  to  me  for  explanation.  I 
will  consult  commentators,  and  write  what  I 
think  of  it,  and  will  send  you  a  text  in  return. 
I  think  the  advantages  of  such  a  correspond- 
ence will  be  numerous;  it  will  serve  to 
strengthen  our  friendship,  teach  us  to  express 
our  ideas  with  propriety,  and,  what  is  still 


10  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.   JUDSON. 

more  important,  make  us  better  acquainted 
with  the  Word  of  God." 

Care  always  regulates  and  balances  a  charac- 
ter, by  bringing  sober  thoughtfulness ;  and  it 
will  be  seen  from  the  above  extract,  that  Sarah 
was  already  thoughtful ;  indeed,  we  find  evi- 
dence of  this  at  twelve  years  of  age,  when  she 
very  naively  remarks,  "  To-morrow  will  be  the 
day  which  is  called  Thanksgiving,  but  I  have 
some  fear,  that  it  is  only  in  the  name."  Then, 
after  making  several  remarks,  which  prove  her 
to  be  no  enemy  to  this  pumpkin-pie  and  roast- 
turkey  festival,  she  adds  :  "  But  this  year  I  will 
try  to  be  truly  thankful,  and  not  forget  the 
good  -God  who  so  kindly  watches  over  my 
youthful  days." 

Much  of  her  early  poetry  evinces  the  same 
disposition,  for  though  not  decidedly  religious, 
it  is  on  religious  topics,  mostly  versification  of 
Scripture  scenes.  In  a  large  mass  of  tattered 
fragments,  I  find  a  Scripture  poem  of  several 
cantos  in  length,  which  must  have  been 
written  at  a  very  early  age,  and  never  copied, 
probably  never  finished.  It  is  very  difficult  to 
decypher  it  in  anything  like  a  connected  form  ; 
but  some  fine  passages,  gleaned  here  and 
there, — fine,  when  the  writer's  age  and  advan- 
tages are  remembered, — we  cannot  but  dis- 


EARLY    DAYS.  11 


cover  marks  of  unusual  promise.  The  following 
description  of  the  Israelites,  as  they  encamped 
by  the  waters  of  Elim,  bears  no  date,  except 
such  as  may  be  gathered  from  the  cramped  au- 
tography, which,  in  its  prim,  stiff  neatness, 
bears  a  strong  resemblance  to  the  little  day- 
book already  mentioned. 

"  Slowly  and  sadly,  through  the  desert  waste, 
The  fainting  tribes  their  dreary  pathway  traced  ; 
Far  as  the  eye  could  reach  th'  horizon  round, 
Did  one  vast  sea  of  sand  the  vision  bound. 
No  verdant  shrub,  nor  murmuring  brook  was  near 
The  weary  eye  and  sinking  soul  to  cheer ; 
No  fanning  zephyr  lent  its  cooling  breath, 
But  all  was  silent  as  the  sleep  of  death  ; 
Their  very  footsteps  fell  all  noiseless  there, 
As  stifled  by  the  moveless,  burning  air ; 
And  hope  expired  in  many  a  fainting  breast, 
And  many  a  tongue  e'en  Egypt's  bondage  blest. 
Hark !    through  the  silent   waste,  what  murmur 

breaks  ? 

What  scene  of  beauty  'mid  the  desert  wakes  ? 
Oh  !  'tis  a  fountain  !  shading  trees  are  there, 
And  their  cool  freshness  steals  out  on  the  air ! 
With  eager  haste  the  fainting  pilgrims  rush, 
Where  Elim's  cool  and  sacred  waters  gush  ; 
Prone  on  the  bank,  where  murmuring  fountains  flow, 
Their  wearied,  fainting,  listless  forms  they  throw  ; 
Deep  of  the  vivifying  waters  drink, 
Then  rest  in  peace  and  coolness  on  the  brink, 
2 


12  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON 

While  the  soft  zephyrs,  and  the  fountain's  flow, 
Breathe  their  sweet  lullaby  in  cadence  low. 
Oh  !  to  the  way-worn  pilgrim's  closing  eyes, 
How  rare  the  beauty  that  about  him  lies  ! 
Each  leaf  that  quivers  on  the  waving  trees, 
Each  wave  that  swells  and  murmurs  in  the  breeze, 
Brings  to  his  grateful  heart  a  thrill  of  bliss, 
And  wakes  each  nerve  to  life  and  happiness. 
When  day's  last  flush  had  faded  from  the  sky, 
And  night's  calm  glories  rose  upon  the  eye, 
Sweet  hymns  of  rapture  through  the  palm-trees 

broke, 

And  the  loud  timbrel's  deep  response  awoke ; 
Rich,  full  of  melody,  the  concert  ran, 
Of  praise  to  God,  of  gratitude  in  man, 
While,  as  at  intervals,  the  music  fell, 
'  Was  heard,  monotonous,  the  fountain's  swell, 
That,  in  their  rocky  shrines,   flowed  murmuring 

there, 

And  song  and  coolness  shed  along  the  air ; 
Night  mantled  deeper,  voices  died  away, 
The  deep-toned  timbrel  ceased  its  thrilling  sway  ; 
And  there,  beside,  no  other  music  gushing, 
Were  heard  the  solitary  fountains  rushing, 
In  melody  their  song  around  was  shed, 
And  lulled  the  sleepers  on  their  verdant  bed." 

A  versification  of  David's  lament  over  Saul 
and  Jonathan,  is  free  from  the  defects  of  the 
piece  quoted  above,  and  faithful  to  the  beautiful 
original.  It  is  known  to  be  one  of  the  very 


EARLY    DAYS.  13 


earliest  of  her  efforts,  but  it  not  unlikely  re- 
ceived some  improvements  from  the  cultivated 
taste  of  later  years  : 

The  beauty  of  Israel  for  ever  is  fled, 
And  low  are  the  noble  and  strong ; 

Ye  children  of  music  encircle  the  dead, 
And  chant  the  funereal  song. 

Oh  :  speak  not  in  Gath  of  the  mighty  laid  low ! 

Be  ye  mute  in  proud  Askelon's  street ! 
Their  daughters,  in  triumph  at  Israel's  woe, 

With  scoffs  the  sad  tidings  would  greet. 

Ye  mountains  of  Gilboa,  never  may  dew 

At  eventide  visit  your  flowers  ; 
May  the  fruits  which  the  fields  of  your  offerings 
strew, 

Never  welcome  the  soft  summer  showers. 

While  there,  in  his  proud,  princely  beauty  he 
stood, 

Was  the  bow  of  the  warriour  unstrung ; 
And  low  in  the  shadows  that  darken  thy  wood 

The  shield  of  the  mighty  was  flung. 

Oh,  stronger   than  young  mountain  lions  were 
they! 

Like  the  eagles  they  never  knew  fear ; 
And  proud  as  they  walked  in  their  kingly  array, 

Shone  the  light  upon  helmet  and  spear. 


14  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.   JUDSON. 

For  Saul,  oh,  ye  daughters  of  Israel  most  fair  ! 

Who  clothed  you  in  scarlet  and  gold, 
Untwine  every  gem  from  your  beautiful  hair, 

And  in  sack-cloth  your  loveliness  fold. 

And  I  —  oh,  my  brother  !  in  sorrow  for  thee, 

My  spirit  is  bending  full  low  ! 
Thy  smiles  and  thy  voice  have  been  pleasant  to 
me, 

As  the  streams  that  in  Lebanon  flow. 

Thy  love  was  a  wonderful,  beautiful  thing, 
More  than  kindles  in  woman's  fond  breast ; 

Not  thy  sister's  young  arms  to  my  neck  as  they 

cling, 
More  tenderly  ever  caressed. 

Ye  daughters  of  music,  encircle  the  dead  ! 

And  chant  the  funereal  song  ;  — 
The  beauty,  the  glory  of  Israel  have  fled, 

And  low  in  the  dust  lie  the  strong. 

Sarah's  fondness  for  poetry  was  not  only  sin- 
gular, but  somewhat  wonderful,  as  it  had  no  in- 
centives. The  poetical  talent  cannot  be  devel- 
oped without  leisure  ;  hence,  though  we  often 
find  it  budding  amid  the  common  affairs  of  life, 
the  sober,  lowly  pursuits  by  which  we  gain  food 
and  raiment,  some  mournful  blight  is  sure  to 
mar  the  expanding  blossom,  or  its  growth  is 
cramped  by  petty  cares.  Our  young  songstress 


EARLY   DAYS.  15 

had  no  leisure ;  her  hands  and  her  thoughts 
were  both  continually  busy;  and,  in  after  years, 
when  her  cares  increased  in  magnitude,  they 
did  not  diminish  in  number.  She  was  busy  to 
the  end.  When  we  compare  the  last  mournful 
effusion  of  the  dying  wife  with  the  above  spir- 
ited effort  of  the  young  girl,  we  are  prevented 
from  wondering  at  the  small  improvement  in 
style  and  finish,  only,  by  its  exquisitely  touch- 
ing tone,  made  melodious  by  the  poetry  of  the 
spirit.  But  the  wonder,  were  it  awakened, 
would  pass  away,  could  we  follow  both  child 
and  woman  along  their  laborious  paths,  and  see 
the  thoughts  of  the  moi^nt  linked  hastily  in 
careless  rhyme,  as  the  hurried  traveller  binds, 
while  he  hastens  onward,  the  nosegay,  not  too 
nicely  culled,  which  he  gathered  by  the  way- 
side. But  young  Sarah  did  not  merely  lack 
leisure  ;  she  had  no  one  to  guide  and  prune,  to 
suggest  and  encourage ;  her  whole  library  of 
poetry  consisted  of  a  copy  of  Ossian,  (which 
•  she  versified  almost  as  freely  as  she  did  the 
Scriptures,)  and  Thomson's  "  Castle  of  Indo- 
lence." Yet  it  is  impossible  to  examine  her 
papers  without  feeling  that  she  laid  no  common 
offering  on  the  altar  of  her  God,  when  she 
breathed  the  petition — "  Here  I  am,  send  me !" 
With  opportunities  to  ripen  and  improve,  she 


16  MEMOIR   OF    SARAH    B.   JUDSON. 

would  have  been  surpassed  by  few  female  poets 
in  the  world.  But  a  better  destiny,  though 
one  of  many  shadows,  lay  before  her,  and 
none  can  regret  that  she  chose  the  soberer 
pathway. 

At  the  age  of  seventeen,  we  find  Sarah  teach- 
ing for  a  few  months,  that  she  may  gain  the 
means  of  studying  for  the  same  length  of  time  ; 
and  then,  pursuing  the  laborious  task  of  paying 
for  the  morning's  recitation,  by  taking  charge 
of  a  class  of  little  girls  during  the  remainder  of 
the  day,  and  no  doubt  poring  over  her  books 
far  into  the  night.  We  are  accustomed  to  con- 
sider a  self-educated^nan,  with  all  his  physical 
strength  and  multiplicity  of  resources,  worthy 
of  all  praise ;  what,  then,  shall  we  say  of  the 
woman,  who,  unassisted  and  alone,  goes  be- 
yond most  of  her  sex,  in  accomplishing  the 
same  object.  It  is  difficult  to  ascertain  the 
extent  of  our  young  student's  school  educa- 
tion, but  passages  from  letters  to  intimate 
friends  tell  something;  and  the  degree  of- 
mental  discipline  which  she  brought  to  the 
performance  of  later  duties,  proves  that  her 
attainments  were  not  superficial. 

"  We  have  finished  Butler's  Analogy  since 
you  left  school,  and  are  now  taking  lessons  in 
Paley's  Evidences." 


EARLY    PAYS.  17 


"  I  am  studying  Campbell's  Philosophy  of 
Rhetoric." 

"I  am  engaged  this  term  in  the  study  of 
Logic  and  Geometry." 

"  I  am  at  home  this  winter,  teaching  my 
little  brothers,  and  so  have  more  leisure  to 
devote  to  my  Latin." 

Thus,  with  a  multiplicity  of  duties  on  her 
hands,  was  she  toiling  patiently  along  the  up- 
ward path  to  mental  superiority  —  preparing 
for  still  heavier,  but  most  precious  toil. 


A  NEW  LIFE. 

"  Till  David  touched  his  sacred  lyre, 
In  silence  lay  the  unhreathing  -wire  ; 
But  when  he  swept  its  chords  along. 
Even  angels  stooped  to  hear  the  song. 
So  sleeps  the  soul  till  Thou,  oh  Lord  ! 
Shall  deign  to  touch  its  lifeless  chord — 
Till  waked  by  Thee,  its  "breath  shall  rise, 
In  music,  worthy  of  the  skies." 

Moore. 

F  Sarah's  early  religious  impressions 
I  have  learned  but  little,  except  that 
they  were  like  those  of  most  thought- 
ful children,  sometimes  strong,  but  always 
evanescent.  Now  she  would  appear  ex- 
cessively alarmed  at  the  thought  of  death,  and 
now  seem  utterly  forgetful  of  her  mortality  ;  at 
one  moment  we  find  her  distressed  and  tearful, 
and  in  the  next  all  happiness,  as  though  the 
earth  were  one  vast  flower,  and  she  a  but- 
terfly, moulded  expressly  to  sip  its  sweets.  But 
this  could  not  continue,  and  at  the  age  of  six- 
teen there  came  a  change — a  spirit-birth.  The 


A    NEW    LIFE.  19 


"  lifeless  chord"  was  touched  at  last,  and  angels 
bent  to  hear  the  music.  It  was  a  melody 
which  angels  could  appreciate  ;  but  it  may  yet 
find  an  echo  in  many  a  human  bosom. 

"I  have  this  day,"  (June  4, 1820,)  "  in  the 
presence  of  the  world,  the  holy  angels,  and  the 
omniscient  God,  publicly  manifested  my  deter- 
mination to  forsake  the  objects  of  earth,  and 
live,  henceforth,  for  Heaven.  What  have  I 
done  ?  Do  I  realize  the  importance  of  the  step 
I  have  taken  ?  Oh,  my  Saviour  !  I  am  weak, 
and  the  heart  of  man  is  deceitful ;  but  I  do 
hope  in  thy  mercy.  Thou  didst  die  even  for 
the  chief  of  sinners,  and  I  know  thou  wilt  par- 
don all  who  come  to  thee  believing.  Take  me, 
dear  Saviour,  all  sinful,  unworthy  as  I  am — do 
with  me  what  thou  wilt,  but  oh  !  preserve  me 
from  wounding  thy  precious  cause !" 

"  I  have  to-day  wept  tears  of  pity,  I  can  al- 
most say  anguish,  at  the  stupidity  of  sinners. 
Inhabitants  of  a  Christian  country,  the  word  of 
God  in  their  hands;  the  mild,  compassionate 
Saviour  waiting  to  receive  them ;  the  Spirit 
striving,  and  yet  they  bent  upon  their  own  de- 
struction. But  have  I  not  more  reason  to  be 
astonished  and  weep  at  my  own  coldness  —  I 
who  have  felt,  that  Jesus  bled  and  died,  even 
for  my  sins ;  I  wander  from  the  way  of  life  ! 


20  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

'  Turn  me,  oh  God,  and  I  shall  be  turned,  draw 
me,  and  I  shall  run  after  thee.'  " 

"  To-day  I  had  a  long  and  serious  conversa- 
tion with  my  beloved  sister  Harriet.  Sweet 
child  !  she  wept  when  I  told  her  of  her  danger- 
ous state.  I  reminded  her  of  the  shortness  of 
time,  the  certainty  of  death,  the  value  of  the 
soul,  and  the  terrors  of  the  Day  of  Judgment ; 
and  she  appeared  greatly  distressed.  But  alas  ! 
I  have  reason  to  fear  that  her  emotions  were  of 
a  different  nature  from  those  I  would  fain  ex- 
cite. I  know  that  she  loves  me  tenderly,  and 
apprehensions  of  an  eternal  separation  cannot 
fail  to  give  her  pain.  Oh !  that  the  Holy  Spirit 
might  convince  her,  and  convince  my  other 
sisters,  and  my  brothers,  of  the  importance  of 
seeking  an  interest  in  the  Saviour." 

Behold  the  little  missionary,  her  youthful 
feet  tremblingly  leaving  their  first  impressions 
on  the  path  of  life,  seizing  upon  the  work  near- 
est her,  laboring  and  praying  in  the  family  cir- 
cle— the  true  charity  which"  begins  at  home," 
and  ends  with  the  boundaries  of  the  universe. 
But  even  then  she  did  not  think  of  home 
merely  ;  and  we  may  well  believe  that  the  shad- 
ow of  her  future  life  was,  at  that  early  period, 
flung  back  upon  her  spirit. 

"  It  is  my  ardent  desire,"  she  writes  to  a 


A    NEW    LIFE.  21 


friend,  "  that  the  glorious  work  of  reformation 
may  extend,  '  till  every  knee  shall  bow'  to  the 
living  God.  For  this  expected,  this  promised 
era,  let  us  pray  earnestly,  unceasingly,  and  with 
faith.  How  can  I  be  so  inactive,  when  I  know 
that  thousands  are  perishing  in  this  land  of 
grace ;  and  millions,  in  other  lands,  are,  at  this 
very  moment,  kneeling  before  senseless  idols." 

But  to  return  to  the  journal :  a  single  sheet 
of  paper  folded  in  a  little  book,  and  the  last 
that  she  ever  kept.  In  less  than  a  month  after 
her  baptism,  she  says  :  "  While  I  have  this  day 
had  the  privilege  of  worshipping  the  true  God 
in  solemnity,  I  have  been  pained  by  the  thoughts 
of  those  who  have  never  heard  the  sound  of  the 
gospel.  When  will  the  time  come  that  the  poor 
heathen,  now  bowing  to  idols,  shall  own  the 
living  and  true  God  1  Dear  Saviour,  haste  to 
spread  the  knowledge  of  thy  dying  love  to 
earth's  remotest  bounds !" 

"  I  have  just  completed  the  perusal  of  the 
life  of  Samuel  J.  Mills  ;  and  never  shall  I  forget 
the  emotions  of  my  heart,  while  following  thus 
the  footsteps  of  this  devoted  missionary.  I  have 
almost  caught  his  spirit,  and  been  ready  to  ex- 
claim :  Oh !  that  I,  too,  could  suffer  privations, 
hardships,  and  discouragements,  and  even  find 
a  watery  grave,  for  the  sake  of  bearing  the 


MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

news  of  salvation  to  the  poor  heathen  !  Then, 
I  have  checked  myself  in  the  wild,  unreason- 
able wish.  Sinners  perishing  all  around  me, 
and  I,  an  ignorant,  weak,  faithless  creature,  al- 
most panting  to  tell  the  far  heathen  of  Christ ! 
Surely,  this  is  wrong.  I  will  no  longer  indulge 
the  vain,  foolish  wish,  but  endeavour  to  be  use- 
ful in  the  position  Providence  has  placed  me. 
I  can  pray  for  deluded  idolaters,  and  for  those 
who  labour  among  them  ;  and  this  is  a  privilege 
indeed." 

Ah,  meek,  true-hearted  one  !  Such  prayers 
as  thine,  through  Him  who  never  turns  away 
from  humble  prayers,  are  the  strength  of  many 
a  human  hand  ;  and  God  grant  that  their  pure 
incense  may  ever  circle  round  the  lone  mission- 
ary of  the  Cross,  and  buoy  up  his  spirit  in  the 
midst  of  toil,  and  privations,  and  the  bitter, 
biting  ingratitude  of  those  who  cannot  under- 
stand the  good  it  brings.  Blessings  on  thy 
sweet,  beautiful  girlhood  ! — or  blessings  rather 
on  its  memories ;  for  no  blessings  of  ours  can 
reach  the  now  bright,  sainted  spirit  that  thou 
art !  But  the  warmth,  the  humility,  the  deep 
devotedness,  the  whole  graceful  symmetry  of 
thy  lovely  character — may  it  never  be  lost  upon 
thy  fair  countrywomen  ! 

With  one  more  extract,  the  little  journal  must 


A    NEW    LIFE.  23 


be  closed.  "  When,  dear  Redeemer,  when 
shall  I  be  '  free  from  this  body  of  sin  and  death  ?' 
I  long  to  sit  for  ever  at  thy  feet,  and  gaze  upon 
thy  face.  But,  perhaps,  before  this  happiness  is 
mine,  many  asorrowful,sinfulday  must  be  passed 
in  this  deceitful  world.  If  so,  I  must  not  be  im- 
patient. Heaven  is  the  place  that  I  most  desire  : 
and  should  I  ever  be  welcomed  to  its  bliss,  I 
shall  be  entirely  satisfied.  1  only  ask  a  heart 
to  serve  God,  and  labour  for  Him  ;  and  then, 
after  living  many  years  in  this  world,  if  I  be 
admitted  to  the  joys  of  heaven,  sweet  will  be 
rny  rest." 

Another  glimpse  of  the  manner  in  which 
Sarah,  young  as  she  was,  commenced  her  "  new 
life,"  may  be  gained,  through  the  following  to  a 
friend.  It  is  given  as  an  apology  for  having 
neglected  letter-writing.  "  I  am  deeply  engaged 
in  my  studies,  and  my  other  avocations  are 
numerous  and  imperious.  Besides,  I  have  been 
for  six  weeks  past  employed  with  a  gentleman, 
upon  the  evidences  of  the  soul's  immortality, 
independent  of  the  Scriptures.  You  may  well 
believe  that  this  subject  has  engrossed  a  large 
portion  of  my  thoughts ;  and  we  have  not  yet 
finished  the  discussion." 

An  anecdote,  illustrative  of  her  faithful  and 
yet  engaging  mode  of  reproval,  is  given  by  a 
3 


24  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.   JUDSON. 

friend,  and  called  to  mind  by  the  above  extract. 
At  a  house  where  Sarah  was  visiting,  a  young 
gentleman  had  left  a  pack  of  gaming  cards  upon 
the  table.  She  saw  them  there,  and  wrote  upon 
the  envelope,  "  Remember  now  thy  Creator  in 
the  days  of  thy  youth  ;  while  the  evil  days  come 
not,  nor  the  years  draw  nigh,  when  thou  shall 
say,  I  have  no  pleasure  in  them."  Startled, 
conscience-stricken,  and  curious,  the  gentle- 
man made  every  effort  to  discover  the  source  of 
the  warning ;  and  finally  succeeded  in  engaging 
a  mutual  friend  to  convey  a  note  of  inquiry  to 
the  young  monitress.  She  immediately  replied  : 

"  And  would'st  thou  know  what  friend  sincere, 
Reminds  thee  of  thy  day  of  doom  ? 

Repress  the  wish  :  — yet  thou  may'st  hear, 
She  shed  for  thee  a  pitying  tear, 
For  thine  are  paths  of  gloom." 

Among  the  poems  written  about  this  time, 
are  "  Lines  to  my  Pastor,"  "  Thoughts  on  the 
Death  of  an  Infant,"  "  Why  will  ye  die,"  &.C. 
&,c.  But,  except  in  the  deep  tone  of  religious 
feeling  which  characterizes  most  of  them,  they 
are  in  no  wise  superiour  to  those  of  an  earlier 
date.  She  was  not  yet  eighteen,  however,  and 
there  was  too  much  of  the  real  in  her  situation, 
to  leave  any  great  opportunity  for  the  cultiva- 


A    NEW    LIFE.  25 


tion  of  the  ideal.  As  a  specimen  of  these  pro- 
ductions, an  extract  may  be  taken  from  a 
short  poem,  entitled 

"  GETHSEMANE." 

"  Oh  !  black  were  the  clouds  which  enveloped  the 

even, 
And  slow  from  the  hills  crept  the  chill  northern 

breeze, 
Cold,  cold  were  the  dews,  thick  descending  from 

heaven, 

And  hushed  was  each  sound,  save  the  rustling  of 
trees. 

On  earth,  gloom  and  sorrow  together  were  blent, 
When  the  Saviour  of  sinners,  by  anguish  oppres- 
sed, 

His  sad,  heavy  steps  to  Gethsemane  bent, 

To  breathe  to  his  Father  the  griefs  of  his  breast. 

And  can  I,  unmoved,  hear  those  accents  of  woe  ? 

The  purple  drop  starting,  with  carelessness  see  ? 
From  that  measureless  agony  turn,  and  yet  know, 

Thus  suffered  the  Saviour  —  my  Saviour  for  me? 

Then  woe  to  this  bosom  !  the  bleak  winds  which 

blew 

Through  his  locks,  on  that  eve,  as  much  tender- 
ness felt ; 

Then  woe  to  this  bosom  !  'tis  cold  as  the  dew, 
And  dull  as  the  turf  where  in  anguish  he  knelt." 


26  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

It  would  be  most  interesting  to  be  able  to 
gain  even  the  slightest  glimpse  of  the  path  in 
which  the  young  Christian  walked  for  the  few 
years  immediately  succeeding  her  public  pro- 
fession of  religion — the  heart-path,!  mean — for 
the  other  is  strewed  with  well-remembered  acts. 
One  lady  will  tell  us  of  the  female  prayer-meet- 
ing, established  in  her  chamber,  just  across  the 
way,  by  this  youngest  member  of  the  church ; 
another  may  still  possess  the  dear  little  tract 
which  the  meek  young  Christian  walked  a  long, 
long  way  to  drop  at  the  door ;  and  many,  very 
many  are  there,  who  even  at  this  late  day  think 
often  of  her  words  of  gentle  warning. 

Mrs.  C.  C.  P.  Crosby,  who  has  kindly  fur- 
nished some  valuable  reminiscences,  says,  "  My 
first  particular  acquaintance  with  Sarah  Hall 
began  in  1823,  when  she  called  on  me,  and  in- 
vited me  to  join  the  Tract  Society,  and  engage 
in  distributing  tracts  in  a  certain  district.  At 
this  time  she  was  about  eighteen  years  of  age ; 
and  from  that  period  till  her  departure  for  glory, 
the  most  affectionate  intercourse  was  main- 
tained. In  the  tract  labours  she  was  assiduously 
engaged  during  her  residence  in  Salem.  Soon 
after  this  event,  (the  call  above  mentioned,) 
a  few  of  her  female  friends  indulged  a 
trembling  hope  in  the  Saviour,  and  she  sue- 


A    NEW    LIFE.  27 


ceeded  in  establishing  a  prayer-meeting,  where 
she  was  accustomed  to  meet  them  each  week 
for  several  months,  and  the  happy  results  were, 
that  all  but  one  came  forward  publicly  and 
put  on  Christ.  Although  the  attendants  on 
this  meeting  were  all  her  seniors,  and  some 
of  them  married  ladies,  yet  Miss  Hall  was 
the  actual  and  acknowledged  leader." 

Her  "  pantings  to  tell  the  far  'heathen  of 
Christ,"  and  the  self-upbraidings  by  which  her 
singular  humility  strove  to  crush  these  aspira- 
tions, must  have  caused  a  struggle,  on  which 
those  winged  visitants,  "  sent  to  minister  to  the 
heirs  of  salvation,"  gazed  with  thrilling  interest, 
but  from  us  all  is  hidden.  There  are,  indeed, 
some  sweet  lines,  which  give  a  slight  evidence 
of  a  drawing  of  the  heart  westward  ;  and  con- 
taining a  prophecy  that, 

"  Ere  long,  in  bright  glory  the  gospel's  pure  light, 
On  each  Cherokee  dwelling  shall  shine  ;" 

and  we  know,  that  at  one  time  she  had  serious 
thoughts  of  becoming  a  member  of  the  Indian 
Mission,  under  McCoy.  Beside  this,  I  have 
before  me  now,  the  torn  fragment  of  a  letter, 
apparently  from  the  secretary  of  a  missionary 
society  in  Central  New-York,  filled  with  inqui- 
ries respecting  her  qualifications  to  labour 


28  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

among  the  Oneidas ;  but  to  whom  the  letter 
was  addressed,  or  what  passed  on  the  subject,  I 
have  no  means  of  ascertaining.  It  serves  to 
show,  however,  that  her  feet  were  already  tend- 
ing to  the  path,  in  which  they  were  afterward 
to  tread.  The  following  lines,  which  are  with- 
out date,  treat  of  topics  with  which  the  heart 
seems  to  have  been  familiar  : 

"COME  OVER  AND  HELP  us." 

"  Ye,  on  whom  the  glorious  gospel, 

Shines  with  beams  serenely  bright, 
Pity  the  deluded  nations, 

Wrapped  in  shades  of  dismal  night ; 
Ye,  whose  bosoms  glow  with  rapture, 

At  the  precious  hopes  they  bear ; 
Ye,  who  know  a  Saviour's  mercy, 

Listen  to  our  earnest  prayer  ! 

See  that  race,  deluded,  blinded, 

Bending  at  yon  horrid  shrine  ; 
Madness  pictured  in  their  faces, 

Emblems  of  the  frantic  mind  ; 
They  have  never  heard  of  Jesus, 

Never  to  th'  Eternal  prayed ; 
Paths  of  death  and  woe  they're  treading, 

Christian  !  Christian  !  come  and  aid  ! 

By  that  rending  shriek  of  horrour, 
Issuing  from  the  flaming  pile, 

By  the  bursts  of  mirth  that  follow, 
By  that  Brahmin's  fiend-like  smile ; 


A    NEW    LIFE.  29 


By  the  infant's  piercing  cry, 

Drowned  in  Ganges'  rolling  wave  ; 
By  the  mother's  tearful  eye, 

Friends  of  Jesus,  come  and  save  ! 
By  that  pilgrim,  weak  and  hoary, 

Wandering  far  from  friends  and  home, 
Vainly  seeking  endless  glory 

At  the  false  Mahomet's  tomb ; 
By  that  blind,  derided  nation, 

Murderers  of  the  Son  of  God, 
Christians,  grant  us  our  petition, 

Ere  we  lie  beneath  the  sod ! 

By  the  Afric's  hopes  so  wretched, 

Which  at  death's  approach  shall  fly ; 
By  the  scalding  tears  that  trickle 

From  the  slave's  wild,  sunken  eye ; 
By  the  terrors  of  that  judgement, 

Which  shall  fix  our  final  doom  ; 
Listen  to  our  cry  so  earnest ;  — 

Friends  of  Jesus,  come,  oh,  come  ! 

By  the  martyrs'  toils  and  sufferings, 

By  their  patience,  zeal,  and  love  ; 
By  the  promise  of  the  Mighty, 

Bending  from  His  throne  above  ; 
By  the  last  command  so  precious, 

Issued  by  the  risen  God  ; 
Christians !  Christians  !  come  and  help  us, 

Ere  we  lie  beneath  the  sod  !" 


THE  CONSECRATION. 

"Behold  her  life  the  offering  — 

In  her  young  beauty  bow  ; 
There  hear  her  quivering  glad  lip  "oroatho. 

Her  consecration  vow  ; 
Love,  deathless,  lighting  up  her  eye, 

Its  glory  on  her  brow." 


ft  N  the  year  one  thousand  eight  hundred 
and  eighteen,  the  young,  ardent,  and 
devoted  Colman  first  planted  his  eager 
foot  upon .  the  land  of  idols ;  and  in  little 
more  than  two  short  years,  a  grave  was  made 
for  him  in  Chittagong.  He  did  not  go  wea- 
ried and  worn  out  with  toil ;  but  scarce  had 
he  raised  one  warning  finger,  scarce  had  he 
looked  upon  the  field,  when  he  was  called  from 
his  morning  labour,  to  the  rest  of  the  sainted. 
And  there,  beside  his  ashes,  as  though  he  had 
never  been,  the  pagoda  still  stood  undisturbed 
beneath  the  golden  fillagree  of  its  own  "  um- 
brella," surrounded  by  a  hundred  miniature 


THE    CONSECRATION.  31 

copies  of  its  taper  self;  and  still  beneath  the 
carved  gables  and  glittering  spires  of  the 
Kyoung,  swarmed  yellow-robed,  indolent 
priests,  pompously  awake  to  their  own  im- 
portance, their  sanctity  and  learning ;  but 
with  all  their  cunning  and  their  miserable 
pride,  not  a  whit  less  ignorant  and  debased 
than  their  blinded  worshippers.  And  thither, 
too,  trooped  thousands  on  thousands  with  their 
offerings — the  old  man  with  his  fruit  and  rice, 
and  the  young  girl  with  her  flowers  ; — and  when 
a  few  careless  words  had  been  muttered,  with 
eye  and  heart  both  wandering,  all  thought 
that  they  had  gained  a  step  toward  heaven, 
and  went  away  to  commit  their  daily  sins 
without  compunction,  since  remission  could  be 
again  so  cheaply  bought.  From  this  scene 
Colman  passed,  just  as  his  tongue  had  learned 
to  frame  some  broken,  but  precious  sentences; 
and  even  the  spirits  above  must  have  looked 
in  wondering  awe  upon  the'  strange  dispen- 
sation, while  awakened  to  new  admiration  of 
"  the  depth  of  the  riches  both  of  the  wisdom 
and  knowledge  of  God."  On  earth  heavily 
sunk  the  sad  intelligence  into  many  a  heart ;  for 
the  mission  cause  was  then  in  the  weakness  of 
its  infancy  ;  and  to  the  finite  eye,  it  looked  a 
tottering  cause,  balanced  on  a  single  point. 


32  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

Within  the  walls  of  Waterville  College,  on 
the  green  banks  of  the  Kennebeck,  sat  a  stu- 
dent poring  over  his  books.  His  slight,  though 
manly  figure,  gave  no  indication  of  physical 
strength ;  and  there  were  blue  veins  on  his 
temples,  a  flush  upon  his  cheek,  and  at  times 
a  spiritual  kindling  of  the  eye,  which  formed 
a  sad  tablet,  that  the  most  careless  might  read 
with  ease.  It  is  seldom  the  destiny  of  one  like 
him  to  count  the  allotted  three  score  and  ten 
links  in  the  chain  of  life.  But  on  the  brow, 
and  in  the  eye,  and  clustering  about  the  pen- 
sively curved  mouth,  was  a  something  full  of 
promise,  a  high-toned  devotedness  of  charac- 
ter, and  a  solemn  earnestness,  which  seemed 
to  say,  that  the  chain  might  yet  be  all  the 
richer  for  its  shortness.  To  the  student,  in 
the  midst  of  his  books,  came  the  voice  of 
mourning  ;  and  with  it,  up  from  the  ashes  of 
the  buried  dead,  came  another  voice,  and  his 
blue  eye  darkened,  and  his  bosom  swelled 
with  enthusiasm,  as  he  listened. 

"  A  soldier  has  fallen  !  to  the  field  !  to  the 
field !"  fell  the  spirit-stirring  call  upon  his 
heart ;  and  though  honors,  such  honors  as  a 
young  man  dearly  loves  to  win,  were  waiting 
his  acceptance ;  though  bright  visions  lay  be- 
fore him,  and  loved  ones  gathered  round,  the 


THE    CONSECRATION.  33 

voice  still  sounded  in  his  ear,  a  trumpet-call, 
and  he  could  not  disobey.  In  solemn  loneli- 
ness, the  final  consecration  was  at  last  made ; 
and,  in  a  few  months  more,  young  Board- 
man  was  an  accepted  missionary. 

But  the  voice  from  the  grave  of  Colman 
had  reached  a  yet  gentler  spirit  —  a  spirit  as 
enthusiastic,  as  devoted,  as  noble  as  his  own ; 
but  one  which,  in  its  meekness  and  feminine 
delicacy,  could  reply  only  by  sorrowful  harp- 
ings.  Thus  sung  young  Sarah  Hall ;  and 
though  by  no  means  in  her  most  poetical  vein, 
there  is  a  genuine  heart-throb  in  every  line. 

"  'Tis  the  voice  of  deep  sorrow  from  India's  shore, 

The  flower  of  our  churches  is  withered,  is  dead, 

The  gem  that  shone  brightly  will  sparkle  no  more, 

And  the  tears  of  the  Christian  profusely  are  shed. 

Two  youths  of  Columbia,    with   hearts  glowing 

warm, 

Embarked  on  the  billows  far  distant  to  rove, 
To  bear  to  the  nations  all  wrapped  in  thick  gloom, 

The  lamp  of  the  gospel — the  message  of  love. 
But  Wheelock  now  slumbers  beneath   the   cold 

wave, 

And  Colman  lies  low  in  the  dark,  cheerless  grave ; 
Mourn,  daughters  of  Arracan,  mourn  ! 
The  rays  of  that  star,  clear  and  bright, 
That  so  sweetly  on  Chittagong  shone, 
Are  shrouded  in  black  clouds  of  night, 
For  Colman  is  gone  ! 


34  MEMOIR    OP    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

At  that  sorrowful  hour,  that  moment  of  woe, 
•When  his  cheek,  lately  glowing  with  health,  was 

all  pale ; 
And  his  lone  wife,  disconsolate,  feeble  and  low, 

Was  sad,  and  no  Christian  replied  to  her  wail ; 
Did  not  angels  in  sympathy  shed  the  soft  tear, 
As  they  gazed  from  their  thrones  far  beyond  the 

blue  sky  ? 
Oh  no  ;  for  the  seraph  of  mercy  was  near, 

To  bid  him  rejoice,  wipe  the  tear  from  her  eye. 
They  saw,  and  with  rapture  continued  their  lays, 
How  great  is  Jehovah  !  how  deep  are  his  ways  ! 
The  spirit  of  love  from  on  high, 
The  hearts  of  the  righteous  hath  fired  ; 
Lo  !  they  come,  and  with  transport  they  cry, 
We  will  go  where  our  brother  expired, 
And  labour  and  die. 


Oh,  Colman  !  thy  father  weeps  not  on  thy  grave ; 

Thy  heart-riven  mother  ne'er  sighs  o'er  thy  dust ; 

But  the  long  Indian  grass  there  most  sweetly  shall 

wav*e, 
And  the  drops  of  the  evening  descend  on  the 

just; 
Cold,  silent,  and  dark  is  the  narrow  abode, 

But  not  long  wilt  thou  sleep  in  that  dwelling  of 

gloom, 
For  soon  shall  be  heard  the  great  trump  of  our 

God, 
To  summon  all  nations  to  hear  their  last  doom  ; 


THE    CONSECRATION.  35 

A  garland  of  amaranth  then  shall  be  thine, 
And  thy  name  on  the  martyrs'  bright  register  shine ; 
Oh,  what  glory  will  burst  on  thy  view, 
When  are  placed  by  the  Judge  of  the  earth 
The  flowers  that  in  India  grew 
By  thy  care,  on  the  never-pale  wreath 
Encircling  thy  brow ! 

The  elegy  found  its  way  to  the  public  eye, 
and  to  the  eye  and  heart  of  the  student. 
Whence  came  it  ?  where  could  the  chord  be 
hidden,  whose  strings  gave  so  true  an  echo  to 
that  vibrating  in  his  own  bosom  1  Boardman 
was  no  poet,  and  he  did  not  pause  to  weigh 
words,  or  carp  at  sentiments  because  of  some 
plainness  in  their  setting  ;  but  by  the  light  of 
his  own  soul,  he  read  the  high  enthusiasm  of 
another.  At  last  they  met,  in  the  words  of 
the  only  witness  to  that  first  meeting,  "  their 
spirits,  their  hopes,  their  aspirations,  were  one." 
And  then,  again,  yet  fonder,  tenderer,  though 
not  stronger  ties  were  broken,  and  beautiful 
was  the  living  sacrifice  laid  on  the  altar. 

Thrice  difficult,  at  that  day  of  few  prece- 
dents, must  have  been  such  a  self-consecration 
to  a  woman.  Madness,  the  world  calls  it 
even  now ;  and  if  treasure,  if  gold  and  dia- 
monds, if  earthly  honors,  if  the  fame  which 
endures  to  the  end  of  time,  were  the  object, 
4 


36  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

such  madness  would  be  too  deep  for  measure- 
ment. Who  for  any  of  these — what  delicate, 
timid  woman,  would  turn  from  the  land  of  her 
birth  to  voluntary  exile?  Who,  for  these, 
could  cast  upon  the  roof  which  has  sheltered 
her,  the  hearth-stone  which  has  been  wet  with 
her  tears,  the  walls  which  have  rang  with  her 
childish  laughter,  the  habitation  which  the 
smiles  of  the  holiest  earthly  love  have  made 
precious  by  their  sunlight — who  could  cast 
upon  all  these  the  abiding  shadow  which  must 
needs  darken  all  the  places  once  blessed  by 
her  beloved  presence  ?  Who  could  look  upon 
the  mother  who  bore  her,  and  whose  arms  are 
even  then  closed  about  her  with  that  peculiar 
tenderness  which  has  its  birth  only  in  the 
mother's  bosom ;  upon  the  father,  whose  eye 
once  lighted  with  pride  at  the  sight  of  his 
darling,  but  is  now  dim  with  the  blinding 
tears;  the  sister,  the  brother,  who  were  the 
playmates  of  her  childhood,  and  bosom  friends 
of  her  youth — who  could  look  into  all  these 
dear,  fond,  tearful  faces,  and  then  turn  away 
her  eyes  and  never  look  again  ?  Who  could 
cast  away  all  the  refinements  of  civilization, 
relinquish  the  sweet  pleasures  of  social  life, 
the  beautiful  associations,  which  cluster,  like 
the  spring-violets  by  her  brook  sides,  around 


THE    CONSECRATION.  37 

every  fair  New-England  town — who  could 
leave  all  these  for  a  wilderness,  where  the 
glance  of  appreciation,  the  smile  of  sympathy, 
are  never  seen,  where  the  refined  affectionate 
circle  never  gathers,  and  the  Sabbath  bell 
never  sounds  ?  For  earthly  treasure,  none  1 
none !  But  the  Christian,  she  who  knows 
that,  in  obedience  to  her  Father's  voice,  she 
can  never  go  beyond  his  smile — what  has  she 
to  fear  1  What  is  the  duty  for  which  her  spirit 
cannot  be  strengthened  ?  Yet,  none  the  less 
to  her,  is  there  anguish  in  such  partings ;  and 
who  can  guess  the  additional  heart-ache  caused 
by  one  unkind  or  unwilling  word.  The  first 
of  these  we  are  not  told  that  Sarah  was  called 
to  bear,  farther  than  always  falls  upon  those 
who  turn  aside  from  the  common  beaten 
track  ;  but  who,  without  more  than  Abraham's 
faith,  could  part  willingly  with  such  a  child  ? 
and  such  faith  was  reserved  to  the  last  painful 
moment ;  for  we  have  been  told  that  poor 
Sarah  received  no  encouragement  from  those 
she  most  loved,  through  all  the  indescribable, 
unimaginable  struggles,  anticipatory  of  the 
final  self-sacrifice. 

Mrs.  Allen,  in  her  beautiful  obituary  notice, 
contained  in  the  Mother's  Journal  of-Decem- 
ber,  1845,  says  : 


38  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

"  If  we  mistake  not,  she  had  not  at  first  the 
cordial  consent  of  her  family  in  this  devotion 
of  herself  to  a  missionary  life.  She  was  a 
treasure  too  precious  to  be  readily  yielded  up, 
even  for  this  holy  work.  We  recollect  that 
when  she  left  her  paternal  home,  to  reach  the 
ship  which  was  to  convey  her  "  over  the  dark 
and  distant  sea,"  after  she  had  taken  her  seat 
in  the  stage-coach  with  her  chosen  companion, 
and  the  late  revered  Dr.  Bolles,  her  pastor, 
and  had  bestowed  her  last  farewell  upon  the 
family  group, — as  though  she  felt  that  she  had 
not  obtained  that  free  and  full  consent  to  her 
abandonment  of  home  and  country  which  her 
filial  heart  craved,  she  looked  out  at  the  coach 
window,  and  said,  '  Father,  are  you  willing  ? 
Say,  father,  that  you  are  willing  I  should  go.' 
'  Yes,  my  child,  I  am  willing.'  '  Now  I  can 
go  joyfully  !'  was  the  emphatic  response  ;  and 
the  noble  wanderer  went  on  her  way  with 
cheerful  composure." 

Of  this  scene  Mrs.  Boardman  writes  to  her 
husband's  parents,  "  My  mother  embraced  me 
as  tenderly,  when  she  whispered,  '  Sarah,  I 
hope  I  am  willing,'  as  she  did  one  month  be- 
fore, when  she  wildly  said,  '  Oh  !  I  cannot 
part  with  you !'  Although  my  father's  fond 
affection  was  very  apparent,  he  still  submis- 


THE    CONSECRATION. 


sively  acquiesced  in  what  appeared  to  be  the 
will  of  Providence.  After  we  were  seated  in 
the  carriage,  I  said,  '  Papa,  are  you  willing  I 
should  go  V  '  Yes  !'  was  the  welcome  reply." 

And  so  the  fond  child's  heart  was  made 
glad  even  in  the  moment  of  its  agony  ;  for 
something  of  the  previous  reluctance  of  the 
sorrow-stricken  parents  to  resign  their  treasure 
may  be  gathered  from  such  pleadings  as 
these : 

"  Let  us,  my  dear  parents,  go  to  Calvary ; 
let  us  behold,  for  a  few  moments,  the  meek, 
the  holy  Lamb  of  God,  bleeding  for  our  trans- 
gressions. Then  let  us  inquire,  '  Shall  I 
withhold  from  this  Saviour  any  object,  how- 
ever dear  to  my  heart  ?  Shall  I  be  unwilling 
to  suffer  a  few  short  years  of  toil  and  privation 
for  his  sake  ?  Let  us  call  to  remembrance 
those  days  of  darkness  through  which  we  pas- 
sed before  Jesus  lifted  upon  us  the  light  of  his 
countenance.  We  have,  I  trust,  each  of  us, 
seen  our  lost  and  ruined  condition  by  nature, 
have  seen  ourselves  exposed  to  the  righteous 
indignation  of  our  Creator,  have  felt  ourselves 
sinking  into  endless  despair  and  ruin,  and  all 
this  is  merited.  But  oh,  amazing  love !  at 
that  desperate  moment  the  Saviour  smiled 
upon  us.  He  opened  his  arms  of  compassion, 


40  MEMOIR    OP    SARAH    B.   JUDSON. 

all  polluted  as  we  were  with  iniquity,  he  re- 
ceived us,  forgave  our  sins,  and  bade  us  hope 
for  joy  unutterable  beyond  the  grave.  Did 
we  not,  then,  surrender  all  into  Jris  hand? 
Was  not  this  the  language  of  our  hearts, 

4  Had  I  a  thousand  lives  to  give, 

A  thousand  lives  should  all  be  thine  !' 

And  has  not  the  precious  Redeemer  as  strong 
claims  upon  us  now  as  he  had  then  ?" 

The  sweet  devotedness  of  her  character, 
the  forgetfulness  of  self,  and  thoughtfulness  in 
regard  to  others,  appear  in  beautiful  relief 
through  all  these  trials.  She  does  not  even 
say,  "  Why  do  ye  weep,  and  break  my  heart." 
She  speaks  not  a  word  of  her  own  sufferings, 
but  strives,  with  cheerful  simplicity,  to  wipe 
away  others'  tears.  "Give  my  love,"  she 
writes  from  Philadelphia,  "to  the  dear  chil- 
dren. Tell  them,  in  a  cheerful  manner,  that 
sister  Sarah  has  gone  to  teach  the  poor  little 
Burmans.  I  hope  they  will  not  be  taught  to 
associate  sad  ideas  with  my  leaving  them." 

A  short  time  previous  to  Sarah's  marriage, 
she  addressed  the  following  plaintive  lines  to 
him  who  was  soon  to  be  her  only  earthly 
friend ;  and  they  are  the  only  expression  of 
any  thought  for  herself  which  she  has  left : 


THE    CONSECRATIO.V.  41 

"  When  far  from  those  whose  tender  care 
Protected  me  from  ills  when  young  ; 

And  far  from  those  who  love  to  hear 
Affection  from  a  sister's  tongue  ; 

When  on  a  distant  heathen  shore, 

The  deep  blue  ocean  I  shall  see  ; 
And  know  the  waves  which  hither  bore 

Our  bark,  have  left  me  none  but  thee  ; 
Perhaps  a  thought  of  childhood's  days 

Will  cause  a  tear  to  dim  my  eye  ; 
And  fragments  of  forgotten  lays 

May  wake  the  echo  of  a  sigh. 
Oh  !  wilt  thou  then  forgive  the  tear  ? 

Forgive  the  throbbings  of  my  heart  ? 
And  point  to  those  blest  regions,  where 

Friends  meet,  and  never,  never  part  1 

And  when  shall  come  affliction's  storm, 
When  some  deep,  unexpected  grief 

Shall  pale  my  cheek,  and  waste  my  form, 
Then  wilt  thou  point  to  sweet  relief  ? 

And  wilt  thou,  then,  with  soothing  voice, 

Of  Jesus's  painful  conflicts  tell  ? 
And  bid  my  aching  heart  rejoice, 

In  these  kind  accents — '  All  is  well  ?' 
When  blooming  health  and  strength  shall  fly, 

And  I  the  prey  of  sickness  prove, 
Oh  !  wilt  thou  watch  with  wakeful  eye, 

The  dying  pillow  of  thy  love  ? 


42  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

And  when  the  chilling  hand  of  death 
Shall  lead  me  to  my  house  in  heaven, 

And  to  the  damp,  repulsive  earth, 
In  cold  embrace,  this  form  be  given  ; 

Oh,  need  I  ask  thee,  wilt  thou  then, 

Upon  each  bright  and  pleasant  eve, 
Seek  out  the  solitary  glen, 

To  muse  beside  my  lonely  grave  ? 
And  while  fond  memory  back  shall  steal, 

To  scenes  and  days  for  ever  fled ; 
Oh,  let  the  veil  of  love  conceal 

The  frailties  of  the  sleeping  dead. 

And  thou  may'st  weep,  and  thou  may'st  joy, 
For  '  pleasant  is  the  joy  of  grief;' 

And  when  thou  look'st  with  tearful  eye 
To  heaven,  thy  God  will  give  relief. 

Wilt  thou,  then,  kneel  beside  the  sod 

Of  her  who  kneels  with  thee  no  more, 
And  give  thy  heart  anew  to  God, 

Who  griefs  unnumbered  for  thee  bore  ? 
And  while  on  earth  thy  feet  shall  rove, 

To  scenes  of  bliss  oft  raise  thine  eye, 
Where,  all-absorbed  in  holy  love, 

I  wait  to  hail  thee  to  the  sky." 

The  Rev.  Doct.  Babcock,  who  had  the  pas- 
toral charge  of  the  church  at  Salem  after  the 
young  missionary's  departure,  thus  speaks  of 


THE    CONSECRATION.  43 

her  as  she  was  described  to  him  by  those  who 
knew  her  well.  "  She  had  been  remarkable, 
from  the  period  of  her  first  professing  herself 
a  disciple  of  Christ,  for  the  symmetry  and 
early  maturity  of  her  piety.  This  made  her 
the  object  of  attention  and  attraction  among 
all  the  more  spiritual-minded  members  of  that 
lovely  church.  In  the  domestic  circle,  she 
was  most  useful,  and  indeed  the  chief  depen- 
dence of  parents  well  able  to  appreciate  this 
inestimable  jewel.  Their  own  very  limited 
circumstances  and  numerous  younger  children, 
with  the  feebleness  of  her  mother's  health, 
threw  on  her  young  arms  no  trifling  load. 
But  with  that  quiet,  native  energy  and  perse- 
verance which  always  characterized  her,  she 
contrived,  after  .faithfully  accomplishing  the 
heavy  tasks  devolving  on  her  at  home,  to  find 
time  and  means  for  successful  mental  cul- 
tivation." 

The  editress  of  the  Mother's  Journal,  in 
the  obituary  notice  already  mentioned,  says 
farther : — "  She  was  of  about  middle  stature, 
agreeable  in  her  personal  appearance,  and 
winning  in  her  manners.  The  first  impression 
of  an  observer  respecting  her,  in  her  youth, 
at  the  time  of  her  departure  from  the  country, 
would  be  of  a  gentle,  confiding,  persuasive 


44  MEMOIR    OP   SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

being,  who  would  sweeten  the  cup  of  life  to 
those  who  drank  it  with  her.  But  further 
acquaintance  would  develop  strength  as  well  as 
loveliness  of  character.  It  would  be  seen  that 
she  could  do  and  endure  as  well  as  love  and 
please.  Sweetness  and  strength,  gentleness 
and  firmness,  were  in  her  character  most  hap- 
pily blended.  Her  mind  was  both  poetical 
and  practical ;  she  had  refined  taste,  and  a  love 
for  the  beautiful  as  well  as  the  excellent. 

For  some  years  before  she  went  to  India, 
she  had  been  a  contributor  to  the  Christian 
Watchman  and  Baptist  Magazine,  or  had 
written  several  articles  which  found  their  way 
into  these  and  other  publications.  Her  poetry 
then  had  merit.  A  piece  written  upon  the 
death  of  Messrs.  Colman  and  Wheelock,  soon 
after  their  arrival  in  Burmah  as  missionaries, 
and  another  upon  the  death  of  Catharine 
Brown,  a  Cherokee  girl,  attracted  attention, 
and  gave  a  favourable  impression  of  the  writer 
before  she  was  otherwise  known  to  the  public. 

It  may  not  be  amiss  to  insert  in  this  con- 
nection, an  Acrostic,  (a  somewhat  fashionable 
style  of  compliment  in  New-England  twenty- 
five  years  ago,)  addressed  to  the  young  poetess, 
previous  to  her  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Board- 
man.  As  it  appeared  anonymously  in  a  news- 


THE    CONSECRATION.  45 

paper,  I  cannot  give  the  author's  name  with 
any  degree  of  certainty,  but  I  have  some 
strong  reasons  for  suspecting  that  it  would  be 
now  no  strange  sound,  in  the  ear  of  the  readers 
of  popular  American  literature. 

"SARAH  HALL." 

"  Soft  and  sweet  thy  numbers  flow, 
And  with  pious  fervour  glow  ; 
Raptured,  we  thy  strains  admire, 
And  would  catch  thy  hallowed  fire ; 
Heavenly  themes,  and  strains  divine, 
Blessed  harmonist,  are  thine. 
Happy  songstress,  tune  thy  lay, 
Artless  thus,  till  called  away  ; 
Loosed  from  earth  to  sing  above 
Lays  divine,  in  realms  of  love." 

What  Sarah  Hall  would  have  been,  if  her 
young  mind  had  not  taken  the  self-denying 
direction,  that  prevented  the  literary  develop- 
ment, to  which  she  seemed  at  first  inclined, 
may  be  the  subject  of  agreeable  conjecture; 
what  she  really  was,  we  shall  soon  learn,  by 
following  her  across  the  blue  waters  to  her 
tropic  home. 


CONTRASTS. 

"  And  there  are  men  in  uncouth  dress, 
That  round  the  stranger  vessel  press  :- 
And  fragrant  groves  on  every  side. 

Bask  in  the  sultry,  noon-day  beam, 
Or  lave  their  branches  in  the  tide, 

Of  Arah-wah-tee's  tranquil  stream  ; 
But  not  a  tree  on  all  the  strand, 

Is  known  in  Anna's  native  land  "# 


NN  Hasseltine  Judson,  as  she  ap- 
peared at  Washington  during  the 
^winter  of  1823,  is  thus  descri- 
bed by  the  Rev.  Doct.  Babcock :  "  Rather 
above  the  medium  female  stature,  her  pleasant, 
frank,  open  countenance  had  still  an  air  of  dig- 
nity, an  ingenuous,  unsought  loftiness  of  bear- 
ing, which  could  not  fail  to  inspire  profound 
respect  and  almost  a  feeling  of  awe.  Her  con- 

*  From  "  Anna's  Return," — a  poem  addressed  to 
Mrs.  Ann  H.  Judson,  by  a  daughter  of  J.  Butterworth, 
Mrs.  P.  Gordon. 


CONTRASTS.  47 


versation  partook  of  the  same  traits.  She 
was  affable  and  meek,  yet  was  she  most  em- 
phatically dignified.  *  *  *  The  whole 
impression  produced  by  intercourse  with  her 
at  this  period,  was  that  of  majestic  sweet- 
ness." 

Others  have  spoken  more  minutely  of  a 
half- oriental  style  of  beauty — a  fine  oval  face, 
with  a  profusion  of  jetty  curls  around  it,  rich 
Spanish  complexion,  and  dark,  deep  eyes,  full 
of  the  lofty  enthusiasm  of  character,  the  latent 
heroism,  afterwards  so  thrillingly  developed. 
At  Salem  the  two  met — the  brilliant,  accom- 
plished woman,  who  had  studied  the  human 
heart,  in  its  various  phases,  on  three  conti- 
nents, and  who  by  her  innate  loftiness,  as  well 
as  high-toned  devotedness  of  spirit,  could  awe 
both  savage  and  cultivated  minds  ;  and  young, 
timid  Sarah  Hall,  an  unsunned  dew-drop,  in 
her  sweet  meekness.  How  strangely  interest- 
ing this  meeting ;  if  any  there  had  but  pos- 
sessed the  power  to  turn  a  few  leaves  in  the 
book  of  human  destiny  ! 

A  little  anecdote  will  serve  to  illustrate 
a  trait  of  character  in  the  younger,  which 
was  prominent  through  life.  True  greatness, 
after  it  has  once  been  developed,  however 
unassuming,  bears  al  ^ays  with  it  a  conscious- 
5 


48  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

ness  of  power,  perfectly  consistent  with  femi- 
nine delicacy  and  Christian  humility.  Clothed 
in  this  power,  sat  the  returned  missionary, 
surrounded  by  listening  admirers  and  learned 
divines,  discussing  topics  of  vast  magnitude 
and  weighty  importance.  Miss  Hall,  totally 
unaware  of  the  wealth  of  thought  and  feeling 
as  yet  but  partly  unlocked  in  her  own  bosom, 
and  blushing  with  girlish  timidity  whenever 
the  fine,  dark  eye  fell  on  her,  endeavoured  to 
shrink  from  observation,  while  she  drank  in 
every  word  with  greedy  earnestness.  But  the 
nature  of  the  "  consecration  vow"  she  had 
breathed  was  no  secret ;  and  so  her  personality 
was  gone,  or  at  least  that  part  of  it  which 
consisted  in  an  indulgence  of  natural  feeling, 
as  well  as  that  which  would  have  made  her 
the  exclusive  proprietor*  of  the  swellings  of 
her  own  heart.  I  believe  it  is  the  opinion  of 
wise  men,  that  a  woman  daring  enough  to 
identify  herself  with  one  who  is  to  stand  on 
the  outposts  of  Zion,  should  have  no  objection 
to  occupying  a  kind  of  honourable  pillory, 
before  both  church  and  world,  till  the  curi- 
osity of  all  amiable  gazers  is  fully  satisfied  ; 
so,  one  who  loved  young  Sarah  well,  but  could 
not  comprehend  the  delicate  attunement  of 
her  spirit,  made  a  startling  proposition. 


CONTRASTS.  49 


What  could  be  more  interesting  here,  in  the 
presence  of  one  who  had  seen  Colman  in 
India,  than  the  reading  of  the  Elegy;  and 
that  by  the  fair  author,  now  on  the  eve  of 
following  in  his  footsteps  1  Interesting  to  the 
listeners,  of  course ;  so  despite  her  low  plead- 
ings, (for  genuine  modesty  would  not  allow 
her  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  waiting 
company  by  stronger  demonstrations  of  reluc- 
tance,) the  poor,  trembling  girl  was  dragged 
before  the  awe-inspiring  circle,  and  the  paper 
thrust  into  her  hand.  One  better  versed  in 
the  ways  of  the  world  would  have  released 
herself  from  the  embarrassing  position  with 
ease ;  and  two  years  after  so  would  she.  But 
now  she  saw  no  mode  of  escape.  She  com- 
menced reading  in  a  hurried,  faltering  tone, 
quite  unusual ;  but  she,  also,  had  enthusiasm 
of  character,  and  a  quiet  dignity,  and  her  soul 
had  been  in  the  subject  when  she  wrote ;  so 
her  voice  gradually  grew  firm,  and  resumed  its 
natural  modulations.  She  finished,  and  with- 
out raising  her  head  enough  to  perceive  that 
the  eyes  she  most  dreaded  were  filled  with 
tears,  stole  away  to  hide  her  burning  blushes 
in  some  retired  corner.  Twenty  years  after- 
wards, when  she  mentioned  the  little  incident, 
as  one  of  exceeding  painfulness  at  the  time  of 


50  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

its  occurrence,  she  said  nothing,  probably 
she  knew  nothing,  of  the  murmur  of  applause 
which  went  around  the  circle,  while  her  own 
cheeks  were  tingling  with  mortification. 

It  had  at  first  been  the  intention  of  young 
Boardman  to  accompany  Mrs.  Judson  on  her 
return  voyage ;  but  it  was  afterwards  thought 
advisable  for  him  to  remain  a  little  longer  at 
his  studies.  Beside,  a  previous  appointment 
had  been  made  by  the  Board  of  Missions ; 
and,  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wade,  Mrs.  Judson 
re-traversed  intervening  oceans,  and  in  the 
autumn  of  1823,  joined  her  husband  at  Ran- 
goon. A  few  days  found  them  on  their  way 
to  Ava.  And  here  the  elegant  woman,  who, 
but  a  little  while  before,  had  been  received  in 
London  as  an  "  angel-visitant,"  shone  a  bril- 
liant star  in  the  most  refined  and  intellectual 
circles  of  Edinboro',  and  moved  the  idol  of 
tender  hearts  and  admiring  eyes  in  her  own 
America,  was  obliged  to  pass  two  weeks  in  a 
little  native  boat,  moored  on  the  shore ;  for 
they  had,  in  her  own  words,  "  no  home,  no 
house  to  shelter  us  from  the  burning  sun  by 
day,  and  the  cold  dews  by  night." 

A  warning  cloud  seemed  to  be  settling  over 
the  golden  city  ;  there  was  a  strange  fluttering 
in  the  pulse  of  power ; — but  what  interest  had 


CONTRASTS.  51 


a  mere  teacher  of  religion  in  these  things  ? 
How  should  they  interfere  with  his  pursuits? 
Surely,  with  the  influence  which  he  had 
gained  at  court,  and  his  repeated  assurances 
that  he  was  not  an  Englishman,  he  would  be 
allowed  to  remain  unmolested.  So  the  mis- 
sionary erected  his  board  cottage,  and  meekly 
and  patiently,  the  two  sat  down  to  their  toil- 
some labour.  But  an  unexpected  voice  came 
up  from  Bengal, — the  roar  of  cannon,  and 
the  clash  of  arms — and,  instantly,  the  royal 
city  seemed  as  though  swarming  with  ban- 
ditti. 

"  They  are  spies !  they  are  spies  !"  and  lo ! 
at  once  the  cord  and  the  death-prison  !  Then 
followed  clanking  chains  and  the  torturing 
stocks ;  then  wailed  the  feeble  infant,  a  strange, 
lovely  guest  in  such  a  fearful  scene ;  then  the 
fever  raged  in  the  father's  veins,  and  burned 
up  his  brain ;  and  the  big  tear  rolled  from 
fond,  beautiful  eyes,  as  the  delicate  wife  and 
mother  crouched  before  dusky  forms,  and 
raised  the  petitioning  voice  to  hardened  ears ; 
and,  still,  wanton  cruelty,  cupidity,  suspicion, 
and  mocking  malice  kept  up  the  torture.  Still 
the  heavy  fetters,  pair  on  pair,  bound  down 
the  scarred  and  aching  limbs ;  and  still  the 
worst  of  criminals,  thieves,  and  murderers, 
5* 


52  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.   JUDSON. 

were  the  jailors  of  Christian  men,  and  jeered 
on  them  in  the  low,  disgusting  mirth  of  base, 
as  well  as  savage  natures.  So  day  after  day, 
week  after  week,  and  month  after  month, 
dragged  their  weary,  weary,  rounds,  and  no 
change  came.  None  ?  Ah !  the  torturing 
march,  beneath  a  blazing  tropic  sun  at  noon- 
day, with  blistering  flesh,  bleeding  feet,  faint- 
ing limbs,  and  reeling  figure,  when  death  came 
to  the  prisoners'  ranks,  and  released  one  poor 
wretch  from  his  sufferings — this  was  indeed 
a  change  !  Then  came  the  terrible  shock  to 
the  agonized  wife,  left  without  a  clue  in  that 
great  horrour-haunted  city — the  anguish  of 
suspense,  the  hurried  search,  the  savage  re- 
pulse, the  fearful  whispers  which  clothed 
threatened  death  with  terrible,  nameless  hor- 
rours ;  and  then  the  infectious  malady — dis- 
ease in  various  forms,  with  not  one  remedy  at 
hand — all  these  came  on  with  overwhelming 
power,  till  even  her  indomitable  spirit  had 
well  nigh  fainted,  but  that  from  the  prison 
and  the  chains  came  a  voice  of  encourage- 
ment, all  languid  as  it  was  with  pain  and 
suffering;  and  that  both  hearts  leaned  confi- 
dingly on  Heaven.  And  thus,  for  the  greater 
part  of  two  long,  dragging  years,  did  the 
benefactors  of  poor  Burmah  walk  through 


CONTRASTS.  53 


sufferings  far  worse  than  death,  while  the 
Christian  world  were  striving  in  vain  to  guess 
their  fate. 

Meantime,  Boardman,  with  his  fair  young 
wife,  had  embarked  for  the  scene  of  their 
future  hopes,  fears,  and  toils.  Letters  dated 
nearly  a  year  previous,  had  brought  intelli- 
gence of  hostilities  between  Burmah  and  the 
Bengal  government,  and  of  the  narrow  escape 
of  Messrs.  Hough  and  Wade  at  Rangoon  ;  but 
it  was  known  that  the  English  arms  were 
victorious,  and  there  could  be  little  doubt  but 
permanent  peace  was  by  this  time  restored. 
At  least,  Rangoon  had  been  seized  by  the 
English,  and  there  a  home  awaited  the  mis- 
sionary strangers. 

"  Beyond  the  town's  remotest  confine  hid 
By  thick  embowering  trees  from  distant  ken, 

ArVhere  wild  beasts  in  the  evening  prowled  amid 
The  near  dark  jungle  ;  and  yet  wilder  men 
Nightly  marauded  ;  solitary  stood 

The  Mission-House  ;  table,  and  chair,  and  mat, 
Its  furniture,  of  fashioning  most  rude  ; 

And  close  beside  it,  rose  the  white  zayat, 
Beneath  whose   roof  of  leaves,    all  day   the 
teacher  sat." 

Thither  it  was  their  intention  to  proceed  at 
once,  and  commence  their  life  labours.  Under 


54  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

these  impressions,  it  is  a  little  singular  that 
Mrs.  Boardman,  when  almost  in  sight  of  port, 
should  have  penned  the  following  words : 
"  Perhaps  on  our  arrival  at  Calcutta,  we  shall 
be  informed  that  Rangoon  is  regained  by  the 
Burmese,  and  the  station  abandoned !  Per- 
haps the  missionaries  at  Ava  have  fallen  vic- 
tims to  the  implacable  vengeance  of  a  people, 
whose  '  tender  mercies  are  cruel.'  Or  if  we 
should  be  allowed  to  settle  quietly  in  Burmah, 
who  knows  but  some  unforeseen  revolution 
may  occasion  our  expulsion,  and  we  be 
doomed  to  rove  from  shore  to  shore?  You 
recollect  that  our  first  American  missionaries 
were  called  to  endure  trials  similar  to  these. 
It  is  not  impossible  that  some  tree  of  Central 
Africa  may  yet  shelter  our  mouldering  dust ; 
or  the  deep,  desolating  snows  of  Siberia 
descend  upon  the  graves  of  those,  who  left 
their  homes  expecting  to  labour  and  die  upon 
the  soil  of  Burmah.  We  may  even  fall  mar- 
tyrs to  the  cause  of  our  precious  Saviour. 
But,  my  dear  Charlotte,  it  matters  little  where 
this  poor  dust  mingles  with  its  kindred  dust, 
if  but  the  spirit  be  prepared  to  ascend  to 
regions  of  eternal  blessedness.  My  whole 
desire  is  to  live  devoted  to  God  on  earth;  and, 
when  the  hour  of  dissolution  comes,  let  me 


CONTRASTS.  55 


behold  Jesus  smiling  upon  me,  and  I  shall 
be  happy,  even  though  amid  tortures  and 
flames." 

The  next  letter  is  filled  with  sorrowful 
tidings,  for  all  missionary  labour  was  sus- 
pended in  Burmah ;  and  she  adds,  "  We  are 
exceedingly  distressed  when  we  try  to  picture 
the  fate  of  our  friends  at  Ava."  Under  these 
circumstances,  Boardman's  only  course  was 
to  remain  in  Calcutta  until  the  close  of  the  war, 
and  endeavor  to  make  some  preparation  for 
future  usefulness.  At  first  he  took  up  his 
residence  in  a  suburban  village,  and  subse- 
quently in  town.  Here  they  were  compara- 
tively well  situated  for  study,  and  lost  no  time 
in  obtaining  a  Burmese  teacher. 

A  letter,  bearing  date  April  13,  1826,  thus 
commences :  "  Rejoice  with  me,  my  beloved 
sister,  at  the  wonderful  preservation  and  de- 
liverance of  our  dear  friends,  who  for  so  long 
a  time  endured  imprisonment,  and  sufferings 
innumerable  at  Ava !  The  intelligence  of 
their  safety  has  filled  our  hearts  with  joy  ;  and 
has  excited  within  us  warm  emotions  of  grati- 
tude to  that  beneficent  Being,  who  never 
leaves  nor  forsakes  those  who  put  their  trust 
in  Him.  Doct.  and  Mrs.  Judson  are  now  in 


56  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

Rangoop,  and  Doct.  Price  is  with  us,  in 
Calcutta." 

Rangoon  had  been,  by  the  treaty,  restored 
to  the  Burmese,  and  it  now  became  the  first 
business  of  the  missionaries  to  find  some  spot 
under  the  British  government,  where  the 
wandering  dove  of  gospel  peace  might  find 
some  little  rest  for  the  sole  of  her  foot.  In 
relation  to  this  Mrs.  Boardman  says :  "  Mr. 
Judson  wrote  us  not  long  since,  that  he  was 
just  going  in  company  with  Commissioner 
Crawford  to  explore  and  survey  a  tract  of 
land,  lying  on  the  Martaban  River,  where  the 
English  propose  to  erect  a  town,  to  be  the 
emporium  of  their  trade  with  Burmah.  Should 
a  town  be  erected  under  favourable  prospects, 
it  seems  probable  that  it  may  become  the  seat 
of  our  prominent  missionary  establishment." 

Amherst  was  at  last  decided  upon  as  the 
seat  of  the  new  station  ;  and  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Wade  immediately  proceeded  thither  from 
Calcutta.  But  before  they  reached  it,  Ann  H. 
Judson  had  laid  her  martyr-head  beneath  the 
Hopia,  crowning  the  green  mound  which 
overlooks  the  ocean.  Death  had  made  an 
early  visit ;  and  there  was  yet  a  puny,  wail- 
ing infant,  who  but  waited  the  same  call. 


CONTRASTS.  57 

The  new  station  was  established  in  lowliness 
of  spirit,  in  humility,  in  sorrowing,  and  tears. 
In  compliance  with  a  pressing  invitation 
from  the  Circular  Road  church,  and  with  the 
advice  of  the  other  missionaries,  Mr.  Board- 
man  remained  several  months  longer  at  Cal- 
cutta, until  some  plan  of  operation  might  be. 
so  far  matured,  as  to  require  his  labours  in 
Burmah.  Under  date  of  January,  1827,  Mrs. 
Boardman  thus  writes  to  a  friend  :  "  I  sometimes 
think,  that  of  all  God's  creatures,  I  have  most 
occasion  for  gratitude.  Since  I  bade  adieu  to 
my  native  land,  the  events  that  have  transpired 
in  relation  to  me  have  been  one  series  of  mer- 
cies. I  am  blest  with  excellent  health,  a  most 
affectionate  husband,  a  lovely  daughter,  and 
everything  in  my  outward  circumstances  to 
make  me  comfortable  and  happy.  In  view  of 
these  temporal  mercies,  I  can  indeed  say,  my 
cup  runneth  over !  But  when  I  think  of  my 
spiritual  privileges,  I  am  still  more  over- 
whelmed. Among  these,  the  near  prospect  of 
being  actually  engaged  in  the  glorious  cause 
of  missions,  is  by  no  means  the  least.  I  still 
feel  it  to  be  a  privilege  of  which  I  am  utterly 
unworthy,  but  for  which,  I  hope,  I  am  not 
altogether  unthankful.1' 
Yet,  notwithstanding  passages  like  the  above, 


58  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

Mrs.  Boardman's  after  testimony  proves  that 
her  residence  in  Calcutta  did  not  conduce  to 
her  spirituality  in  religion.  Whatever  might 
have  been  her  improvement  in  other  respects, 
she  did  not  make  that  progress  in  the  wisdom 
which  is  foolishness  to  the  men  of  this  world, 
those  advances  in  the  grace  of  Christ,  which 
her  previous  course  had  promised.  Delay  had 
brushed  the  first  bloom  from  her  enthusiasm, 
and  though  it  might  give  place  to  something 
better  and  more  enduring,  which  was  to  come 
hereafter,  the  present  effect  was  to  be  regretted. 
She  was  a  lovely  wife,  a  fond,  proud  mother, 
a  most  attractive  companion,  and  an  accom- 
plished lady.  It  has  been  written  of  her  that 
her  English  friends,  at  this  time,  regarded  her 
"  as  the  most  finished  and  faultless  specimen 
of  an  American  woman  that  they  had  ever 
known."  She  was  a  Christian,  too,  preferring 
in  her  heart  of  hearts  the  service  of  her  bles- 
sed Saviour,  to  any  pleasures  or  distinctions 
that  the  world  can  give  ;  but  her  position  was 
not  favourable  to  the  development  of  fervent, 
heart-piety.  Worldly  prosperity,  and  idleness, 
(a  kind  of  spiritual-idleness,  I  mean  ;  for  Mrs. 
Boardman's  hands  and  head  were  doubtless 
busy,)  are  great  enemies  to  growth  in  grace, 
and  both  of  these  were  incidental  to  her 


CONTRASTS.  59 


position.  She  was  not  yet  on  her  own  mis- 
sionary ground,  and  the  people,  to  whom  her 
heart  had  gone,  were  not  about  her  ;  so,  while 
Mr.  Boardman,  in  his  less  limited  capacity  of 
a  preacher  and  a  man,  could  say,  "  I  never 
had  so  much  reason  to  believe  that  God  was 
with  me,  to  bless  my  labours,  as  I  have  had 
here,"  she  was  only  studying  a  dry,  difficult 
language,  and  looking  to  the  future  for  useful- 
ness. Her  love  to  God,  though  real,  at  times 
fervent,  and  always  sufficiently  strong  to 
render  her  capable  of  any  sacrifice  of  worldly 
advantage  to  duty,  had  not  yet  been  ripened 
by  long  exercise,  nor  chastened  by  sorrow. 
The  news  of  the  death  of  a  little  brother,  for 
whom  she  had  felt  the  half-maternal  tenderness 
natural  to  an  elder  sister,  startled  her,  for  a 
moment,  from  a  state  of  spiritual  lukewarm- 
ness.  Pathetic  were  the  appeals  made  to  her 
other  brothers  and  her  sisters,  for  preparation 
to  meet  the  lost  little  one ;  and  pointed  and 
emphatic  were  her  heart-questions.  Indeed, 
constant  warnings  to  the  family  friends,  from 
whom  she  had  parted,  were  never  neglected 
from  the  time  she  looked  her  last  upon  them 
in  the  land  of  her  birth,  till  her  failing  hand 
dropped  the  pen  for  ever.  The  following  is  a 


MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.   JUDSON. 

part  of  a  poem,  written  after  the  bereavement 
above  mentioned  : 


"  Oh,  I  remember  well  the  time  when  thou, 
A  little  child,  first  lisped  thy  evening  prayer. 
Then  I  was  wont  to  kneel  "beside  thy  cot, 
And  plead  for  blessings  on  thine  infant  head  ; 
And  when  I'd  kissed  thy  cheek,  and  wished  for 

thee 

A  night  of  pleasant  sleep  and  joyful  morn, 
How  oft  upon  my  ear  thine  accents  fell, 
Plaintive  and  sweet  as  is  the  voice  of  birds, — 
'  Come  back,  dear  sister,  for  a  moment  come, 
And  tell  me  more  of  that  dear  Saviour's  love  ; 
Teach  me  to  shun  the  dark  and  dreadful  world, 
Where  wicked  spirits  dwell  in  guilt  and  shame  ; 
And  talk  to  me  of  heaven,  where  Jesus  is !' 
And  often  now,  in  fancy,  do  I  see 
Thee  on  thy  bed  of  languishing  and  death. 
I  see  thee  stretch  thy  weak  and  wasted  arms, 
To  clasp  bhine  infant  sister ;  hear  thee  say, 
Dear  mother,  give  the  baby  Sarah's  name  ; 
I  see  thee  raise  thy  glazing  eye  to  heaven, 
And  hear  thee  lisp  thy  simple,  dying  prayer. 
But  oh  !  'tis  fancy  all ;  I  was  not  there, 
To  hear  the  gentle  pleadings  of  thy  voice, 
To  smooth  thy  dying  pillow,  and  to  claim 
Thy  last  fond  look  of  love.     I  was  not  there, 
To  soothe  thy  father's  grief,  and  wipe  the  tear 
From  the  mild  eye  of  her  who  gave  us  birth. 


\ 


CONTRASTS.  61 


Alas  !  in  sorrow's  hour,  they  looked  in  vain 
For  me,  their  eldest  born  ;  but  still  I  know 
They  were  not  all  alone.     Jesus  was  there  ; 
Upon  his  breast  my  brother  leaned  his  head  ; 
His  blessed  presence  softened  every  grief; 
My  parents  wept,  but  his  kind,  soothing  hand 
Wiped  from  their  eyes  the  tear,  and  all  was  wett* 


MAtTLMAIN. 

Broad  leaves  spreading,  creepers  trailing, 

Cast  strange,  fitful  shadows  there  ; 
Brilliant  blossoms,  fruits  ne'er  failing. 
Crimson  clouds  in  azure  sailing, 
Lade  with  -wealth  the  slumberous  air. 

But  the  hooded  serpent's  creeping 
Where  the  richest  blossoms  fall ; 

From  his  lair  the  tiger  leaping  ; 

And  dark  forms,  at  midnight  creeping, 
Ghost-like,  glide  along  the  -wall. 


N  the  17th  of  April,  1827,  the 
Boardmans  arrived  at  Amherst ;  and 
in  two  days  after  Mrs.  Boardman 
was  first  attacked  by  the  disease  which  made 
her  an  invalid  for  many  years;  and  which, 
finally,  after  a  long  interval  of  health,  brought 
her  to  the  grave.  How  peculiarly  saddening 
must  any  illness  have  seemed  at  this  crisis  ; 
when,  after  an  absence  of  nearly  two  years 
from  her  native  land,  she  had  just  set  foot,  for 


MAULMAIN.  63 

the  first,  time,  upon  the  soil  of  Burmah.  Her 
little  daughter,  also,  the  beautiful,  rosy-cheeked 
Sarah,  of  whom  she  had  so  often  spoken  in 
her  letters,  with  the  proud  fondness  of  a  young 
mother,  was  even  *  more  a  sufferer  than  she. 
And  they  had  come  to  no  place  of  joy.  The 
shadowy  form  of  the  great  Destroyer  had 
scarce  passed  from  the  door  of  the  rude  mis- 
sion-house ;  but  yet  he  turned  back,  and  stood 
again  upon  the  threshold.  Almost  the  first 
labour  of  Mr.  Boardman's  hands  was  to  con- 
struct the  small,  last  house,  "  doorless  and  dark 
within,"  of  a  little  being,  (the  infant  first  pil- 
lowed among  her  father's  chains  at  Ava,)  who 
might  tell  her  sister  seraphs  of  a  short  life  still 
darker.  He  assisted  in  laying  Maria  Judson 
by  her  mother's  side,  and  then  walked  beside 
the  one  sorely-stricken  mourner,  back  to  his 
own  family  of  invalids. 

It  was  soon  resolved  that  the  three  mission- 
aries should  attempt  the  occupation  of  both 
Amherst  and  Maulmain,  twenty-five  miles 
apart ;  and  the  Boardmans  immediately  prepared 
for  removal.  A  small  bamboo  house,  a  very 
frail  shelter  in  the  eyes  of  an  American,  was 
erected  for  them  at  Maulmain  as  soon  as  prac- 
ticable ;  and  Mrs.  Boardman  was  carried  to 
the  water-side  upon  a  litter,  to  be  placed  in  the 
6* 


64 


MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 


boat  which  was  to  convey  her  to  her  new 
home.  A  row  of  native  houses  had  sprung 
up  along  the  water-side,  and  the  little  town 
was  daily  receiving  accessions  to  its  popula- 
tion, from  those  who  preferred  the  English 
government  to  their  own.  The  Mission-House 
was  in  a  lonely  spot,  about  a  mile  from  the 
cantonments,  and  the  thick  jungle  close  at 
hand,  was  the  haunt  of  wild  beasts,  whose 
howlings  sounded  dismally  on  their  ears  in  the 
night-time.  Behind  them  rose  a  handsome 
range  of  hills,  tipped  here  and  there  with  the 
mark  of  a  nation's  idolatry — the  light,  graceful 
pagoda,  with  its  white  or  gilded  masonry,  and 
glittering  ornaments;  and  before  them  rolled 
a  broad,  beautiful  river,  in  which  an  Eng- 
lish sloop  of  war  was  lying  at  anchor,  and 
curiously-shaped  Indian  boats  were  passing  to 
and  fro,  with  each  changing  tide.  Just  across 
the  river,  lay  the  Burman  province  of  Marta- 
ban,  which  having  been  deserted  by  its  peaceful 
inhabitants,  became,  to  the  terrible  men  who 
took  shelter  there,  like  his  own  mountain- 
fastnesses  to  MacGregor.  Armed  with  knives, 
spears,  and  sometimes  muskets,  they  sallied 
forth  in  parties  of  twenty  or  thirty,  at  night- 
fall ;  and  then  woe  to  the  poor  wretch  who  was 
suspected  of  having  treasure  worth  the  trouble 


MAULMAIN.  65 


of  a  visit.  Sometimes  even  entire  villages 
were  destroyed  by  them,  and  they  once  ven- 
tured so  far  as  to  attack  a  guard  of  sepoys. 
Stealthily  they  moved,  with  a  tread  as  light  as 
the  Indians  of  the  western  world ;  and  when 
they  had  secured  their  booty,  the  Martaban 
coast  became  to  them  the  altar  of  Jupiter.  By 
touching  that,  they  were  safe,  for  it  was  beyond 
the  jurisdiction  of  the  English ;  and  so  they 
carried  on  their  daring  trade  with  impunity. 
The  English  general  had  suggested  to  Mr. 
Boardman  that  he  might  be  exposing  himself 
to  danger,  both  from  these  lawless  men  and 
the  wild  beasts  of  the  jungle  ;  and  had  invited 
him  to  take  up  his  residence  within  the  can- 
tonments. But  this  would  have  defeated  the 
missionary's  object ;  for  to  serve  the  Burmese, 
or  even  prepare  to  serve  them,  by  studying 
their  character  and  language,  he  must  be  with 
them. 

Here,  in  a  place  well-calculated,  from  its 
loneliness,  for  study,  Mrs.  Boardman  applies 
herself  to  the  acquisition  of  the  language  very 
successfully ;  for  she  had  the  advantage  of 
hearing  it  spoken  daily.  She  even  attempted 
to  converse  with  the  half-wild  children,  who 
stood  gaping  at  her  in  amused  curiosity ;  and 
attracted  them  about  her  as  much  as  possible, 


66  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

in  the  hope  that,  as  soon  as  she  was  prepared, 
she  might  be  able  to  establish  a  school.  "  Oh ! 
for  a  common  language !"  has  been  the  half- 
impatient  exclamation  of  many  in  her  situation. 
To  the  eyes  of  purblind  mortals,  it  seems  a 
great  pity  that  the  curse  of  Babel  could  not 
have  been  restricted  to  those  who  make  them- 
selves strong  to  do  evil. 

About  a  month  after  Mrs.  Boardman's  arri- 
val at  Maulmain,  under  date  of  June  20th,  she 
writes  a  friend  :  "  We  are  in  excellent  health, 
and  as  happy  as  it  is  possible  for  human  beings 
to  be  upon  earth.  It  is  our  earnest  desire  to 
live,  and  labour,  and  die,  among  this  people." 

Four  days  passed  after  the  writing  of  this 
letter,  as  previous  hours  passed ;  men  in  loose 
garments  of  gayly-plaided  cloth,  and  with  their 
long,  black  hair  wound  about  their  heads,  and 
confined  by  folds  of  muslin,  looked  curiously 
in  at  the  door  of  the  strange  foreigner ;  and 
then  encouraged  by  some  kind  word  or  glance, 
or  the  spreading  of  a  mat,  seated  themselves 
in  their  own  fashion,  talked  a  little  while  with 
their  host,  though  often,  from  misapprehension 
of  each  other's  meaning,  at  cross-purposes, 
and  went  away,  leaving  him  to  his  books  and 
teacher.  Women  and  children  gathered  more 
timidly,  but  with  curiosity  even  less  disguised, 


MAULMAIN.  67 


about  the  Kalah-ma-pyoo,  (white  foreigness,) 
wondering  at  her  strange  costume,  the  fairness ' 
of  her  skin,  and  the  superiority  displayed  in 
her  bearing ;  and  some  of  the  bolder  of  them 
venturing  to  touch  her  hand,  or  to  pass  their 
tawny,  taper  fingers  from  the  covered  instep  to 
the  toe  of  the  neatly-formed  slipper,  so  unlike 
their  own  clumsy  sandals.  But  who,  among 
all  these,  came  to  inquire  of  Jesus  Christ,  or 
learn  the  way  to  heaven  ?  Most  emphatically 
could  they  say,  "  We  have  not  so  much  as 
heard  if  there  be  a  God." 

On  the  evening  of  the  fourth  day,  as  it 
deepened  into  night,  the  books  of  study  were 
thrown  aside,  and  the  book  of  God  taken  in 
their  stead;  then  the  prayer  was  raised  to 
heaven,  and  the  little  family  went  to  rest. 
Feeble  were  the  rays  of  the  one  pale  lamp,  close 
by  the  pillow  of  the  young  mother,  scarce 
throwing  its  light  upon  the  infant  resting  in 
her  bosom,  and  penetrating  into  the  remote 
darkness,  but  by  feeble  flickerings.  So  sleep 
soon  brooded  over  the  shut  eyelids;  and 
silence  folded  its  solemn  wings  about  the  little 
habitation. 

The  infant  stirred,  and  the  mother  opened 
her  eyes.  Why  was  she  in  darkness?  and 
what  objects  were  those  scattered  so  strangely 


t)8  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

about  her  apartment,  just  distinguishable  from 
•  the  gray  shadows  ?  The  lamp  was  soon  re- 
lighted, and  startling  was  the  scene  which  it 
revealed.  There  lay,  in  odd  confusion,  trunks, 
boxes,  and  chests  of  drawers,  all  rifled  of  their 
contents ;  and  strewed  carelessly  about  the 
floor,  were  such  articles  as  the  marauders  had 
not  considered  worth  their  taking.  While  re- 
.  garding  in  consternation,  not  appreciable  by 
those  who  have  access  to  the  shops  of  an 
American  city,  this  spoiling  of  their  goods, 
Mrs.  Boardman  chanced  to  raise  her  eye  to 
the  curtain,  beneath  which  her  husband  had 
slept,  and  she  thought  of  the  lost  goods  no 
more.  Two  long  gashes,  one  at  the  head  and 
the  other  at  the  foot,  had  been  cut  in  the 
muslin ;  and  there  had  the  desperate  villains 
stood,  glaring  on  the  unconscious  sleeper 
with  their  fierce,  murderous  eyes,  while  the 
booty  was  secured  by  their  companions.  The 
bared,  swarthy  arm  was  ready  for  the  blow, 
and  the  sharp  knife  or  pointed  spear  glittered 
in  their  hands.  Had  the  sleeper  opened  his 
eyes,  had  he  only  stirred,  had  but  a  heavy, 
long-drawn  breath  startled  the  cowardice  of 
guilt — ah,  had  it  !  But  it  did  not.  The 
rounded  limbs  of  the  little  infant  lay  motionless 
as  their  marble  counterfeit ;  for  if  the  rosy 


lips  had  moved  but  to  the  slightest  murmur,  or 
the  tiny  hand  crept  closer  to  the  loved  bosom 
in  her  baby  dreams,  the  chord  in  the  mother's 
breast  must  have  answered,  and  the  death- 
stroke  followed.  But  the  mother  held  her 
treasure  to  her  heart  and  slept  on.  Murderers 
stood  by  the  bedside,  regarding  with  callous 
hearts,  the  beautiful  tableau;  and  the  hus- 
band and  father  slept.  But  there  was  one 
Eye  open — the  Eye  that  never  slumbers ;  a 
protecting  wing  was  over  them,  and  a  soft,  in- 
visible hand  pressed  down  their  sleeping  lids. 

Nearly  every  article  of  value,  that  could  be 
taken  away,  had  disappeared  from  the  house ; 
and  though  strict  search  was  made  throughout 
the  neighborhood,  no  trace  of  them  was  ever 
discovered.  After  this  incident,  Sir  Archibald 
Campbell  furnished  the  house  with  a  guard  of 
Sepoys  during  the  night ;  and  as  the  rapid  in- 
crease of  the  population  soon  gave  it  a  central 
position  in  the  town,  the  danger  of  such  attacks 
was  very  much  lessened. 

In  a  simple,  child-like  letter  to  a  little  sister, 
dated  December  of  the  same  year,  Mrs.  Board- 
man  writes  :  "  I  have  a  Sabbath-School  of  little 
Burman  girls,  who  are  learning  their  catechism 
and  their  prayers.  We  have  no  hymns  in  the 
Burmese,  or  I  should  teach  them  hymns  also. 


70  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

We  have,  beside  this,  a  school  during  the 
week,"  (Mrs.  Wade's  school,  mostly  from 
Amherst,)  "  in  which  the  tawny  little  girls 
learn  to  read  and  sew.  They  are  also  learning 
the  multiplication  table;  and  they  are  just 
beginning  the  first  part  of  the  same  arithmetic 
which  you  study,  translated  into  the  language. 
These  poor  little  girls  would  have  nobody  to 
tell  them  of  God  and  of  Christ,  of  heaven  and 
of  hell,  if  there  were  no  missionaries  here.  Are 
you  not  glad  that  your  sister  Sarah  has  come 
to  tell  them  of  these  important  things  ?" 

In  January  she  announces,  with  earnest 
warmth  of  language,  the  first  baptism  she  had 
looked  upon  in  Burmah — two  native  converts, 
by  the  senior  missionary  ;  she  adds,  "  there  is 
also  one  more  person,  a  Karen,  who  will  prob- 
ably soon  be  baptized.  He  is  a  poor  man, 
and  has  been  for  some  time  past  in  the  employ 
of  Doct.  Judson."  Probably  she  did  not  know 
that  this  poor  man  had  formerly  been  one  of 
the  most  desperate  of  his  race,  a  robber  and  a 
murderer ;  and,  certainly,  she  could  not  fore- 
see to  what  honour  God  had  reserved  him. 
This  singular  man,  whose  first  ideas  of  the 
Christian  religion  were  gleaned  from  a  tract 
presented  him  at  Rangoon,  was  the  famous 
Ko  Thah-Byoo;  whose  rough  and  undis- 


MAULMAIN.  71 


ciplined  genius,  energy  and  zeal,  have  won  for 
him  an  enviable  reputation,  as  one  of  the 
boldest  pioneers  in  the  Karen  mission.  He 
was,  soon  after  this  mention  in  the  letter,  ex- 
amined and  approved  by  the  Maulmain  church  ; 
and  was  baptized  by  Mr.  Boardman  on  his 
first  arrival  at  Tavoy. 

Perhaps  something  ought  to  be  said  of  the 
general  character  of  Mrs.  Boardman's  letters, 
if  for  no  other  reason,  as  an  excuse  for  less 
copious  extracts  than  we  could  wish,  and  for 
these  being  usually  in  fragments.  She  says 
but  little  in  them  of  herself — her  doings  and 
feelings ;  but  she  seems  full  of  interest  in  those 
she  addressed,  sympathizing  in  their  minutest 
concerns,  with  that  unselfish  kindness  which 
is  sweet  to  the  recipient,  though  to  a  stranger 
uninteresting.  They  must  have  been  delicious 
indeed  to  those  she  loved ;  but,  like  some  of 
the  most  important  passages  in  every  human 
life,  they  are  not  fitted  for  the  public  eye. 

I  have  unfolded  a  letter,  since  finishing  the 
above  sentence,  in  which  every  member  of  her 
father's  large  family  is  thanked  by  name  for 
having  written  her ;  and  each  allusion  is  ac- 
companied by  some  affectionate  comment,  or 
word  of  praise  or  encouragement,  suited  to  the 
age  of  her  young  correspondent.  At  last  she 


72  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.   JUDSON. 

says,  "  You  must  let  the  dear  little  twins  and 
my  sweet  sister,  whom  I  have  not  seen,  make 
each  a  mark  upon  a  paper,  that  I  may  hav^ 
some  token  from  their  little  hands."  There  is 
something  exceedingly  touching  in  the  affec- 
tionate simplicity  of  this  request,  which  will 
not  fail  to  find  its  way  to  many  a  heart. 

It  has  been  said  of  Mrs.  Boardman,  (though 
referring  to  a  much  later  period  of  her  life,) 
that  she  excelled  in  the  maternal  relation. 
With  her  letter  before  me,  and  the  various 
anecdotes  gathered  from  different  sources, 
fresh  in  memory,  I  cannot  but  conclude  that 
she  excelled  in  all  domestic  relations.  The 
tender  devotedness  of  the  daughter,  the  affec- 
tionate, sympathetic  faithfulness  of  the  sister, 
(to  say  nothing  of  a  tie  yet  stronger  and 
holier,)  were  only  different  developments  of 
the  same  character,  which  was  perfected  in 
the  mother.  The  following  fragment,  showing 
how  her  thoughts  still  turned  homeward, 
though  she  says  that  the  "  wide  world  would 
not  induce  her  to  return,"  is  from  a  letter 
written  to  her  parents  on  the  third  anniversary 
of  their  parting  day.  We  give  but  a  few  of 
the  opening  lines. 

"  I  see  the  dear  parental  dwelling-place, 
Where  love  and  happiness  were  constant  guests ; 


MAULMAIN.  73 


I  see  my  aged  grandsire,  seated  near 
That  good  old  pilgrim  who  has  been  his  joy, 
Through  many  years  of  hope,  and  care,  and  pain  ; 
I  see  my  dear,  kind  parents,  side  by  side, 
Smiling  with  pleased  affection  on  the  group 
Of  children  sporting  round  the  cheerful  hearth  ; 
Oh,  /was  once  of  that  most  happy  group  !" 


HIE  WO 


TAVOY. 

"Light  for  the  darkened  earth  ! 

Ye  blessed,  its  beams  who  shed! 
Shrink  not  till  the  day-spring  hath  its  birth. 

Till,  wherever  the  footstep  of  man  doth  tread, 
Salvation's  banner  spread  widely  forth. 
Shall  gild  the  dream  of  the  cradle-bed, 
And  clear  the  tomb 
From  its  lingering  gloom, 
For  the  aged  to  rest  his  weary  head." 

Mrs.  Sigonrney. 

T  was  at  Tavoy,  whither  he  repaired 
in  the  spring  of  1828,  that  Mr.  Board- 
man's  missionary  career  really  com- 
menced. During  their  residence  at  Calcutta, 
they  had  studied  the  language  to  great  disad- 
vantage ;  and  it  required  all  the  interval  be- 
tween their  arrival  at  Amherst,  and  final 
settlement  at  Tavoy,  to  learn  to  frame  even 
simple  sentences,  after  a  model  so  entirely  new 
to  them.  Then  there  were  the  organs  of 
speech  to  be  disciplined  to  the  utterance  of 


TAVOY.  75 

uncouth  sounds  never  heard  before,  and  in 
which  the  slightest  variation  of  tone  or  the 
change  of  a  letter,  so  alters  the  meaning  of 
the  word,  that  the  whole  sentence  is  rendered 
unintelligible.*  Persons  in  America  spend 
many  years  over  languages  closely  analogous 
to  our  own,  and  then  speak  and  write  them 
with  difficulty.  The  acquisition  of  an  Asiatic 
language  is  a  vastly  more  difficult  thing ;  but 
many  persons  seem  to  suppose  that  the  modern 
missionary  has  received  the  miraculous  gift  of 
tongues  ;  for  they  begin  to  look  for  "  interest- 
ing accounts,"  long  before  he  can  possibly  be 
qualified  to  judge  between  an  inquirer  and  the 
most  open  impostor,  who  smiles  assent  to  sen- 

#  A  somewhat  ludicrous  mistake  of  this  nature  fell 
under  my  observation  not  long  since.  An  English  gen- 
tleman, who  had  resided  but  a  short  time  in  Burmah, 
remarked  that  he  had  learned  two  phrases — the  one 
"  go,"  (in  the  imperative,)  and  the  other  "  make  haste ;' 
the  first,  he  said,  was  always  comprehended  without 
difficulty ;  but  the  other,  (smiling  as  he  spoke,  at  the 
characteristic  indolence  of  the  people,)  was  never  un- 
derstood— they  only  turned  around  and  stared  vacantly 
in  his  face.  "  What  do  you  say  for  '  make  haste  T  in- 
quired a  listener.  "Myen!  myen .'"  was  the  ready 
reply.  He  had  changed  the  a  to  e,  and  so,  when  he 
wished  to  hasten  the  movements  of  his  servants,  he 
called  out,  "  Horse  '.  horse  .'" 

7* 


76  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

timents  he  does  not  understand,  while  he 
thinks  he  sees  in  prospective  the  anna,  which 
is  to  purchase  to-morrow's  food. 

The  Boardmans  were  met  with  another  dif- 
ficulty at  Tavoy  ;  for  the  corrupt  dialect  of  the 
Tavoyens  differed  from  the  pure  Burmese, 
more  widely  than  the  worst  of  Canadian  Patois 
from  the  flowing  language  of  the  French  capi- 
tal ;  and  the  women,  more  especially,  could 
not  be  made  to  comprehend  a  sentence  without 
a  provincial  interpreter.  Mr.  Boardman's  first 
work  after  his  arrival  was  to  baptize  Ko  Thah- 
Byoo,  the  zealous  Karen  disciple  already  men- 
tioned, and  the  next — but  we  will  quote  from 
Mrs.  Boardman's  letter  to  her  sister  :  "  My 
dear  husband  has  just  been  repairing  an  old 
zayat,  where  he  intends  to  spend  a  part  of 
each  day  in  recommending  the  religion  of  our 
blessed  Saviour  to  all  who  will  listen.  He 
enters  upon  public  labours  with  fear  and  trem- 
bling ;  and  I  am  assured  that  he  has  hope  in 
God,  and  in  Him  only.  He  has  Burmese  wor- 
ship with  the  boys  of  the  school,"  (four  boys 
who  accompanied  him  from  Maulmain,)  "  and 
the  two  native  assistants,  every  evening,  and 
also  divine  service  each  Lord's  day  morning." 
What  with  ill  health,  necessary  study,  and 
cares  of  a  family,  increased  by  the  boys  of  the 


TAVOY.  77 

boarding-school,  it  could  not  reasonably  be 
expected  that  Mrs.  Boardman  would  find  much 
time  for  other  duties.  She,  however,  in  the 
words  of  her  husband,  after  "  Unwearied  toil, 
repeated  repulses,  and  discouragements,"  suc- 
ceeded in  establishing  a  girls'  school ;  and  as 
soon  as  possible  employed  a  woman,  whom  she 
had  herself  taught  to  read,  as  an  assistant. 
She  thus  speaks  of  a  visit  to  this  school :  "  I 
am  just  returned  from  one  of  the  day-schools. 
The  sun  had  not  risen  when  I  arrived,  but  the 
little  girls  were  in  the  house  ready  for  instruc- 
tion. My  walk  to  this  school  is  through  a  re- 
tired road,  shaded  on  one  side  by  the  old  wall  of 
the  city,  which  is  overgrown  by  wild  creepers 
and  pole-flowers,  and  on  the  other  by  large 
fruit-trees.  While  going  and  returning,  I  find 
it  sweet  and  profitable  to  think  on  the  shortness 
of  time,  the  vanity  of  this  delusive  world — and 
oh !  I  have  had  some  precious  views  of  that 
world  where  the  '  weary  are  at  rest ;'  and 
where  sin,  that  enemy  of  God,  and  now  con- 
stant disturber  of  my  peace,  will  no  more 
afflict  me." 

The  following  quotation  from  another  letter, 
will  give  us  a  glimpse  of  the  state  of  things  a 
few  months  later.  She  describes  her  own 
station,  by  her  table,  in  a  little  back  verandah, 


78  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

and  then  goes  on  with  her  picture  thus  :  "  In 
the  room  before  me  sits  my  dear  husband,  sur- 
rounded by  nine  little  heathen  boys,  to  whom 
he  is  imparting  a  knowledge  of  that  gospel, 
which  can  save  from  eternal  ruin.  On  each 
side  of  the  house  is  a  long  verandah.  In  one 
of  these  the  native  Christians  are  holding  a 
prayer-meeting  in  Burmese,  and  in  the  other 
sits  the  Chinese  convert,  Kee  Zea-Chung, 
loudly  urging  three  or  four  of  his  deluded 
countrymen  to  turn  from  the  worship  of  idols 
to  that  of  the  true  God." 

In  February,  1829,  Mr.  Boardman  made  his 
first  tour  among  the  Karens  ;  leaving  his  wife, 
who  had  but  just  recovered  from  an  illness  of 
four  months'  duration,  with  her  two  little  ones, 
(the  younger  a  son  six  months  of  age,)  and 
the  boys'  boarding-school.  She  is  thus  con- 
soled by  a  Karen  woman,  the  wife  of  Ko  Thah- 
Byoo:  "Weep  not,  mama;  the  teacher  has 
gone  on  a  message  of  compassion  to  my  poor, 
perishing  countrymen.  They  have  never  heard 
of  the  true  God,  and  the  love  of  his  son 
Jesus-Christ — Christ,  who  died  upon  the  cross 
to  save  sinners.  They  know  nothing  of  the 
true  religion,  mama ;  and  when  they  die,  they 
cannot  go  to  the  golden  country  of  the  blessed. 


\ 


TAVOY.  79 

God  will   take   care  of  the  teacher ;   do  not 
weep,  mama." 

It  may  seem  a  weakness  to  weep  an  absence, 
which  is  to  be  only  of  two  or  three  weeks' 
duration ;  but  one  of  the  beauties  of  true 
Christian  heroism  is  the  softness  which  it 
always  leaves  upon  the  spirit.  "  I  should  have 
no  objection  to  seeing  the  woman  I  loved  a 
devout  believer  in  these  things,"  said  an  infidel 
to  me  once  in  a  public  stage-coach ;  "  for  there 
is  something  in  them  which  subdues  the  char- 
acter, and  produces  a  kind  of  tearful  and  yet 
elevated  tenderness,  not  to  be  lightly  esteemed 
in  a  cold,  selfish  world  like  this.  I  speak  from 
experience,  for  my  wife  is  a  Christian."  But 
partings  among  missionaries,  where  one  goes 
to  endure  privations  and  toils  in  an  unexplored 
jungle,  and  the  other  is  left  without  a  protector 
in  the  midst  of  a  large,  idolatrous  city,  are 
sadly  unlike  the  same  thing  on  Christian  soil. 
The  consecration  of  the  missionary,  adds  iron 
to  neither  heart  nor  nerve.  This  is  the  same 
delicate  woman  whom  you  would  have  hesi- 
tated to  leave  alone  in  a  civilized  land,  though 
friends  might  have  been  within  call  from  your 
very  door — who  would  not  have  walked  the 
streets  of  a  civilized  city  at  nightfall  without  a 
protector !  And  what  new  armour  has  she 


80  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

now,  that  she  should  stand,  perhaps  thronged 
by  innumerable  trials,  with  dusky  faces  about 
her,  and  strange  voices  sounding  in  her  ears ; 
and  not  a  lip  to  whisper,  in  the  accents  of  her 
native  tongue,  one  single  word  of  encourage- 
ment and  sympathy  ?  True,  she  may  be  left 
with  a  little  band  of  disciples,  but  with  them 
she  has  only  one  theme  in  common — the  sal- 
vation of  Jesus  Christ — and  even  in  that 
knowledge  they  are  mere  infants.  The  high 
religious  truths  which  she  loves  to  contemplate, 
are  entirely  beyond  their  grasp.  Her  refine- 
ment, her  sensitiveness,  all  the  higher  emotions 
of  heart  and  soul,  are  even  farther  from  their 
comprehension  than  her  superiority  of  intellect 
and  systematic  mental  culture.  Even  her  hor- 
rour  of  crime,  the  black  deeds  which  defile 
the  very  atmosphere  she  breathes,  they  cannot 
appreciate ;  for,  with  the  partially-cleared  vis- 
ion of  a  weak,  ignorant,  faltering  disciple, 
they  yet  see  everything  through  the  medium  of 
confirmed  habit.  What  their  fathers  and 
grandfathers  did,  and  what  they  have  done 
unblushingly  from  childhood,  loses  its  black- 
ness in  their  eyes,  although  they  know  it  to  be 
sin.  Then,  if  sickness  come,  or  any  new 
sorrow — oh  !  there  is  scarce  a  person  on  earth 
so  utterly  desolate  as  the  missionary's  wife,  left 


\ 


TAVOY.  81 


alone  with  her  cares  —  but  for  the  God  above 
her  and  in  her  heart. 

It  would  be  irrelevant  to  follow  Mr.  Board- 
man,  in  his  trackless  march  through  the  Karen 
wilderness,  however  interesting  must  be  such 
a  journey.  Over  hills,  and  across  streams,  ard 
ravines  almost  impassable,  he  went  ;  the  fierce, 
wily  tiger,  crouching  among  the  rocks,  and 
mischievous  fairy  Pucks,  in  the  shape  of  grin- 
ning, chattering  monkeys,  swinging  from  the 
boughs  overhead  ;  huge  mountains  stretching 
far  into  the  clouds,  with  the  wild  streamlets, 
which  fed  some  mighty  river,  dashing,  bounding 
and  leaping  from  rock  to  rock,  down  their  pre- 
cipitous sides,  like  snow-wreaths  gifted  with  the 
spirit  of  life  ;  and,  far  down  in  the  deep  valley, 
the  calm  Palouk,  rolling  slowly  and  gracefully 
to  its  destination,  like  the  river  of  the  good 
man's  life,  gliding  through  its  earthly  vale  to 
the  ocean  of  a  blessed  eternity.  Among 
scenes  like  these,  and  others  wilder  and 
darker,  he  went,  scattering  pearls  of  priceless 
value  in  his  way,  greeting  many  a  thirsty  lip 
with  the  waters  of  life,  and  waking  in  the  dead 
spirits  of  the  wilderness,  a  pulse  which  never 
beat  there  before.  After  two  or  three  weeks 
he  returned,  to  endure  one  of  the  severest 
trials  of  the  missionary's  life.  The  poison  of 


CW  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

sin,  which  had  once  required  the  cauterizing 
knife,  previous  to  the  commencement  of  this 
tour,  again  made  its  appearance  in  his  little 
church ;  and  his  sensitive  spirit  was  wrung 
with  the  bitterest  anguish.  Extreme  sensitive- 
ness, and  distrust  of  self  were,  doubtless,  the 
occasion  of  much  of  the  sorrow  felt  both  by 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boardman.  It  was  not  merely 
that  the  cause  of  Christ  had  been  disgraced 
through  the  defection  of  its  supposed  friends, 
but  they  feared  that  the  disgrace  had  been 
somehow  occasioned  by  their  own  unworthi- 
ness  or  inefficiency.  Mrs.  Boardman,  in  par- 
ticular, was  roused  and  alarmed.  From  the 
commencement  of  her  residence  in  Calcutta, 
up  to  the  present  time,  her  capacity  for  reli- 
gious enjoyment  had  been  but  little  enlarged, 
and  her  attainments  in  spirituality  were  of  no 
high  order.  Still,  her  self-accusations,  though 
sincere,  could  not  have  been  deserved.  Some- 
thing of  the  acuteness  of  her  feelings  may  be 
learned  from  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Bolles.  It  is  full 
of  the  bitterest  self-upbraidings,  and  there  is  a 
spirit  of  the  deepest  humiliation  breathing  in 
every  line. 

"  Some  of  these  poor  Burmans,"  she  says, 
"  who  are  daily  carried  to  the  grave,  may  at 
last  reproach  me,  and  say,  '  you  came,  it  is 


TAVOY.  83 

true,  to  the  city  where  we  dwelt,  to  tell  of 
heaven  and  hell,  but  wasted  much,  much  of 
your  precious  time  in  indolence,  while  acquir- 
ing our  language.  And,  when  you  were  able 
to  speak,  why  were  you  not  incessantly  telling 
us  of  this  day  of  doom,  when  we  visited  you  ? 
why,  oh  why  did  you  ever  speak  of  any  other 
thing  while  we  were  ignorant  of  the  most  mo- 
mentous of  all  truths  ?  Oh !  how  could  you 
think  on  anything  but  our  salvation?  How 
could  you  sleep,  or  allow  yourself  anything 
like  ease  or  comfort,  while  we  were  perish- 
ing, and  you  knew  a  Being  who  could  save 
us,  and  that  Being  had  promised  to  grant  the 
petition  of  his  children  ?  You  told  us  that  He 
was  your  Father,  that  He  heard  your  lowest 
whispers  and  most  secret  sighs — why,  then, 
did  you  not,  day  and  night,  entreat  Him  in  our 
behalf?' 

Mr.  Boardman  will  tell  you  of  the  heart- 
rending afflictions  which  we  have  been  called 
to  endure  in  our  little  church.  Our  hearts 
have  almost  bled  with  anguish,  and  mine  has 
sunk  lower  than  the  grave,  for  I  have  felt  that 
my  unworthiness  has  been  the  cause  of  all  our 
calamities." 

This  trial,  which  only  one  class  of  readers, 
(Aeart-christians,)  will  be  able  to  appreciate, 


84  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

ended  in  a  blessing ;  for  from  this  time,  the 
things  of  heaven  began  to  gain  a  stronger  and 
firmer  hold  upon  her  heart,  and  a  domestic 
calamity,  which  soon  followed,  gave,  even 
while  its  shadow  lay  heaviest,  additional  value 
to  the  blessing. 

In  the  spring  of  1829,  Mrs.  Boardman  was 
again  visited  by  severe  illness,  and  her  physical 
constitution  became  so  much  impaired,  that 
she  was  unable  to  rally,  as  on  former  occasions. 
Her  infant  son,  too,  was  a  pale,  puny  creature, 
with  his  father's  spiritual  look — the  same  deli- 
cate fashioning  of  feature  and  transparency  of 
complexion,  and  the  same  blue  veins  crossing 
the  temples.  And  the  father  was  not  quite 
like  his  former  self.  His  cheeks  were  a  little 
more  hollow,  and  the  colour  on  them  more 
flickering ;  his  eyes  were  brighter,  and  seem- 
ingly more  deeply  set  beneath  the  brow,  and 
immediately  below  them  was  a  faint,  indistinct 
arc  of  mingled  ash  and  purple,  like  the  shadow 
of  a  fading  leaf;  his  lips  were  sometimes  of  a 
clayey  pallor,  and  sometimes  they  glowed  with 
crimson ;  and  his  fingers  were  long,  and  the 
hands  of  a  partially  transparent  thinness. 
None  of  the  family  were  in  health,  except  the 
"  rosy  little  daughter," — the  "  bright,  beautiful 
darling  Sarah  Ann,"  as  she  was  fondly  named 


TAVOY.  85 

in  many  a  letter  ;  and  she  was  their  joy  and 
pride.  A  short  trip  to  Mergui,  sea-air  and  sea- 
bathing proved  beneficial  to  them,  however, 
and  they  returned  to  their  toil  with  renewed 
strength  and  vigour. 


LITTLE  SARAH. 

"  He  gazed  at  the  flowers  -with  tearful  eyes, 
He  kissed  their  drooping  leaves  ; 

It  -was  for  the  Lord  of  Paradise, 
He  bound  them  in  his  sheaves. 


ord  has  need  of'these  flowerets  gay,' 
The  Reapers  said,  and  smiled; 
Dear  tokens  of  the  earth  are  they, 
Where  he  was  once  a  child," 

LovgfeUo 


ARAH  is  as  plump  and  rosy-cheeked 
as  we  could  wish.  Oh!  how  delighted 
you  would  be  to  see  her,  and  hear  her 
prattle!  Thus  wrote  the  mother  in  her  hap- 
piness ;  and,  in  a  little  more  than  two  weeks 
after,  she  saw  her  darling,  speechless  and  mo- 
tionless, in  her  little  shroud.  "  I  knew  all  the 
time,"  says  the  bereaved  parent,  "that  she 
was  very  ill ;  but  it  did  not  once  occur  to  me 
that  she  might  die,  till  she  was  seized  with  the 
apoplexy,  about  three  hours  before  she  closed 


LITTLE    SARAH.  87 


her  eyes  upon  us  for  ever.  Oh !  the  agony  of 
that  moment !"  And  in  that  agonized  moment, 
as  the  shadow  of  eternity  fell  upon  the  spirit 
of  the  little-  sufferer,  and  a  vista,  which  her 
eye  could  not  discern,  but  from  which  her 
failing  nature  instinctively  recoiled,  opened 
before  her,  she  looked  with  anxious  alarm 
into  her  mother's  face,  and  exclaimed : — 
"  I  frightened  !  mama !  I  frightened  !"  What  a 
strange  thing  is  death  .  The  tender  nursling, 
who  in  moments  of  even  imagined  ill,  had 
clung  to  the  mother's  bosom,  and  been  shel- 
tered in  her  arms,  now  hovered  over  a  dark, 
unfathomed  gulf,  and  turned  pleadingly  to  the 
same  shield — but  it  had  failed.  The  mother's 
arm  was  powerless  ;  her  foot  could  not  follow  ; 
and  the  trembling  babe  passed  on  alone,  to 
find  her  fears  allayed  on  an  angel's  bosom. 
Mrs.  Boardman  followed  her  first-born  to  the 
grave  with  faltering  steps,  and  then  returned 
to  her  other  stricken  child.  "  He  lay,"  she 
says,  "  feeble  and  emaciated,  in  the  arms  of 
his  nurse ;  and,  for  the  first  time  since  he  was 
two  months  old,  refused  to  notice  us.  On  the 
next  Sabbath  night,  we  watched  him  till  morn- 
ing, expecting  every  breath  to  be  his  last.  But 
our  Heavenly  Father  is  kind,  and  he  did  not 
take  from  us  both  our  blossoms."  The  fol- 
8* 


88  MEMOIR    OP    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

lowing  remembrances,  penned  nearly  a  year 
after  the  sorrowful  bereavement,  are  for  the  eye 
of  mothers,  whose  thoughts  turn  often  to  a 
little  grave,  and  then  back  to  the  bounding 
life  and  infantine  endearments,  which  preceded 
its  solemn  stillness. 

"  Our  little  Sarah  left  us  July  8th,  of  last 
year — aged  two  years  and  eight  months.  *  *  * 
She  was  a  singularly  lovely  child.  Her  bright 
blue  eyes,  yellow  hair,  and  rosy  cheeks,  formed 
a  striking  contrast  to  the  little  dark  faces 
around  her ;  and  I  often  said — 

Thou  art  a  sweet  and  fragrant  flower, 

'Mid  poisonous,  vile  weeds  blooming  ; 
A  lovely  star,  whose  cheering  power 
Makes  glad  the  heavy-footed  hour, 
When  midnight  clouds  are  glooming. 

From  the  time  she  began  to  notice  anything, 
we  were  the  objects  of  her  fondest  love.  If 
she  thought  she  had  incurred  our  displeasure, 
her  tender  heart  seemed  ready  to  burst ;  and 
she  could  not  rest  for  a  moment,  until  she  had 
said  she  was  '  sorry,'  and  obtained  the  kiss  of 
forgiveness.  She  had  learned  to  obey  us  im- 
plicitly. *  *  *  Always  when  she  saw  us 
kneeling  to  pray,  she  would  come  and  kneel 
beside  us.  On  observing  me  one  day  going  to 


.     LITTLE    SARAH.  89 

a  small  house  for  prayer,  near  the  spot  where 
her  precious  dust  now  sleeps,  she  said  to 
Marian  and  Rosina,  'Go  back  !  I  will  go  alone 
with  mama  to  pray  1'  She  followed  me  to  the 
place,  and  as  soon  as  she  entered  it,  threw  her- 
self on  her  knees  and  commenced  praying. 

She  was  an  exceedingly  sensitive  child. 
She  was  not  only  afflicted  at  sight  of  our 
tears,  but  even  a  sorrowful  look  from  us  melted 
her  tender  heart,  and  incited  her  to  do  all  in 
her  power  to  alleviate  our  sorrows.  If  we 
frowned  upon  her  conduct  she  wept,  kissed  us, 
and  refrained  from  committing  the  same  fault 
again.  If  either  of  us  was  ill,  her  heart 
seemed  overflowing  with  grief;  and  she  would 
say,  in  tones  of  touching  tenderness,  '  Mama, ' 
(or  papa,)  '  ill — Sarah  very  sad.  Mama  can- 
not take  Sarah  now.'  And  she  would  come  and 
stroke  our  foreheads  with  her  little  soft  hand, 
and  kiss  us  so  affectionately  !  Her  love  to  her 
little  brother  George  was  unlimited.  From 
the  day  of  his  birth  till  the  day  but  one  before 
she  died,  he  was  her  idol.  If  she  wanted  any- 
thing ever  so  much,  only  tell  her  it  was  for 
Georgie,  and  that  was  enough  to  satisfy  her. 
She  never  envied  him  an  article  of  dress  or 
food,  or  a  play-thing,  but  would  always  resign 
her  choicest  toys  to  her  dear  little  brother. 


90  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

Three  days  before  she  died,  she  was  lying 
uneasily  in  a  large  swing  cradle,  and  George 
was  in  the  same  room,  crying.  We  thought  it 
might  soothe  the  little  sufferer,  for  he  was  also 
very  ill,  to  lay  him  down  beside  Sarah.  The 
proposal  delighted  her  ;  with  smiles  she  threw 
open  her  little  arms,  and,  for  the  last  time, 
held  her  darling  brother  in  her  fond  embrace. 
So  great  was  her  gratification  at  this  privilege, 
that  she  seemed  to  forget  her  own  pains. 

Little  Sarah  spoke  English  remarkably  well 
for  so  young  a  child,  and  Burmese,  like  a 
native ;  she  could  also  say  some  things  in  the 
Hindostanee  and  Karen.  And  what  seems  a 
little  singular,  she  never  confounded  two  lan- 
guages, but  always  spoke  pure  English  to  us, 
and  pure  Burmese  to  Burmans.  This  dis- 
crimination continued  as  long  as  she  had  the 
powers  of  speech.  She  had  learned  the 
Lord's  prayer  and  several  little  hymns.  Dr. 
Judson's  lines  on  the  death  of  Mee-Shway-ee 
she  knew  by  heart  in  Burmese,  and  used 
to  chant  them  for  half  an  hour  at  a  time. 
She  had  nearly  learned  the  Burman  and  English 
alphabets,  and  could  repeat  the  names  of  the 
months,  days  of  the  week,  and  a  part  of  the 
multiplication-table,  in  Burmese.  These  things 
may  seem  very  trivial  to  you,  but  I  muse  upon 


LITTLE    SARAH.  91 

them  by  the  hour  together;  and  it  is  only 
when  I  call  my  cooler  judgment  into  action, 
that  I  can  make  myself  believe  they  are  unin- 
teresting to  any  person  on  earth.  I  love  to 
think  of  my  sweet  bird  of  immortality,  expand- 
ing so  beautifully  in  my  own  presence ;  and 
fancy  I  can  judge,  in  some  small  degree,  of  the 
brilliancy  of  the  perfect  flower,  from  these 
little  developments. 

A  few  hours  before  she  died,  she  called  us 
to  her,  kissed  us,  and  passed  her  dear  hand, 
still  full  and  dimpled,  as  in  health,  softly  over 
our  faces.  The  pupils  of  her  eye  were  so 
dilated  that  she  could  not  see  us  distinctly,  and 
once,  for  a  moment  or  two,  her  mind  seemed 
to  be  wandering ;  then  looking  anxiously  into 
my  face,  she  said,  *  I  frightened,  mama !  I 
frightened !'  *  *  *  Oh !  with  what  feelings 
did  I  wash  and  dress  her  lovely  form  for  the 
last  time,  and  compose  her  perfect  little  limbs ; 
and  then  see  her — the  dear  child,  which  had 
so  long  lain  in  my  bosom — borne  away  to  her 
newly-made  grave.  My  heart  grew  faint  when 
I  thought  that  I  had  performed  for  her  my  last  of- 
fice of  love ;  that  she  would  never  need  a  mo- 
ther's hand  again.  My  dear  husband  performed 
the  funeral  service  with  an  aching,  though  not 
desponding  heart.  The  grave  is  in  our  own  en- 


92  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

closure,  about  fifteen  rods  from  the  house — a 
beautiful,  retired  spot,  in  a  grove  of  Gangau 
trees.  Near  it  is  a  little  Bethel,  erected  for 
private  devotion.  Thither  we  have  often  re- 
paired ;  and  we  trust  that  God,  who  in  his  infi- 
nite wisdom  has  taken  our  treasure  to  himself, 
often  meets  us  there." 

"  It  never  once  occurred  to  me,"  wrote  Mrs. 
Boardman,  while  seated  by  the  shrouded  form 
of  her  dead  child,  (thus  opening  her  oppressed 
heart  to  a  friend,  who  had  known  something 
of  her  religious  state  previous  to  this,)  "  It 
never  once  occurred  to  me,  all  the  time  my 
child  was  with  me,  that  she  could  die ;  she 
seemed  always  so  full  of  life  and  health."  In 
the  depths  of  grief  and  lowly  penitence,  were 
these  words  penned,  for  the  stricken  mourner 
attempted  no  excuse.  She  hesitated  not  to 
acknowledge,  that  it  was  a  strange,  an  almost 
incredible  forgetfulness,  and  that  her  bereave- 
ment, bitter  as  it  was,  was  a  reminder  from 
Heaven,  sent,  not  only  in  justice,  but  in  mercy ; 
and  in  tearful,  repentant,  sorrowing  humility, 
she  bowed  beneath  her  Father's  rod,  grateful 
for  the  love  which  directed  the  blow,  though 
it  descended  crushingly  upon  her  spirit.  She 
knew  that  this  affliction  was  sent  to  call  back 
her  wandering  heart  to  its  place,  the  foot  of 


LITTLE    SARAH.  93 


the  Cross ;  and  with  the  confiding  submission 
of  a  little  child,  she  obeyed  the  summons. 

A  single  errour,  which  had  stolen  upon  her 
insensibly,  through  the  speculative  conversa- 
tions of  a  friend,  to  whose  opinions  she  yielded 
much  deference,  had  contributed,  in  a  great 
degree,  to  keep  her  in  a  state  of  spiritual 
darkness.  The  poison,  (for  it  can  be  called 
no  less,)  was  imbibed  in  America,  though  its 
workings  could  not  appear,  while  she  was  sur- 
rounded by  Christian  friends,  and  while  no- 
thing occurred  to  wear  away  her  zeal.  But 
during  her  residence  in  Calcutta,  it  had  crept 
into  her  spirit  imperceptibly,  and  the  living 
principle  had  been  thus  deprived  of  its  activity. 
She  had  lost  the  eye  of  faith,  which  discerns 
the  finger  of  the  Almighty  in  the  minute  con- 
cerns of  life.  She  did  not  believe  that  the 
great  Jehovah  condescends  to  regard  our  go- 
ing-out and  our  coming-in,  our  lying-down  and 
our  rising-up ;  that  he  watches  momentarily 
over  our  individual  good,  and  marks  out  our 
paths  in  flowery  ways,  or  sharpens  the  thorns 
beneath  our  feet,  as  He  sees  will  best  contri- 
bute to  that  good.  She,  of  course,  never 
doubted  a  general  superintending  Providence  ; 
but  she  could  not  reconcile  the  vastness  of  His 
power,  who  holds  the  reins  of  the  universe  in 


94  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

His  hand,  with  the  minute  care,  which  wings 
the  little  bird,  feather  by  feather,  counts  out 
human  life  by  pulsations,  and  maintains  a  yet 
tender  and  more  watchful  supervision  over  His 
own  peculiar  people.  But  when  the  child,  on 
which  she  doted,  was  removed  from  her  sight, 
there  was  something  in  her  heart,  which  told 
her  by  whose  hand,  and  for  what  purpose,  this 
desolation  had  been  wrought.  The  worldling 
would  have  seen  nothing  in  it  but  the  fulfilling 
of  a  universal  law  of  nature  ;  but,  by  the  light 
that  had  not  been  extinguished  in  her  spirit, 
she  read,  in  the  sad  characters  of  the  grave,  a 
message  to  herself.  She  knew  that  the  omnis- 
cient God,  whose  care  had  been  over  her  per- 
sonally, though  she  had  scarce  discerned  it, 
through  happy  years,  had  planned  and  wrought 
this  seeming  ill  for  the  deepest  good.  And 
from  that  moment,  her  vision  was  cleared ; 
and  she  learned  to  wait,  and  watch,  and  obey, 
as  a  little  child  looks  to  his  father's  face,  and 
reads  his  will  in  smiles  or  frowns,  or  in  the 
glances  of  the  eye.  And  bearing  with  her, 
ever  after,  this  sweet  trustfulness,  she  passed 
through  other  severer  trials,  sometimes  with 
weeping  eye,  but  never  with  a  fainting  heart. 
With  the  monarch-minstrel  of  Israel,  she  could 
say,  "  Though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of 


LITTLE    SARAH.  95 

the  shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear  no  evil ;  Thy 
rod  and  Thy  staff,  they  comfort  me." 

Of  little  George,  after  his  recovery,  Mrs. 
Boardman  writes  :  "  We  have  a  fine,  healthy 
boy  ;  but  I  do  not  allow  myself  to  idolize  him, 
as  I  did  his  dear  departed  sister.  In  her  dis- 
solution, we  saw  such  a  wreck  of  all  that  was 
lovely  and  beautiful,  that  I  think  we  shall 
henceforth  be  kept  from  worshipping  the  crea- 
ture." Well  was  it,  that  the  mother  had 
placed  this  guard  over  her  heart,  for  she  had 
need  of  it.  In  the  succeeding  January,  an- 
other precious-  bud  was  given  to  her  bosom  ; 
and,  in  less  than  a  year  after,  that,  too,  was 
"  bound  in  the  sheaf"  of  the  "  reaper,  death." 
But  previous  to  this,  before  little  George  had 
lifted  his  head  from  his  pillow  of  pain,  or  a 
green  blade  had  sprung  up  on  Sarah's  grave, 
came  events  fearfully  spirit-stirring ;  and  to 
these  we  will  now  return. 


THE  REVOLT. 


Ah  me  !  there  *wa,s  a  smell  of  death, 
Hung  round  us  night  and  day." 

Mary  Uovritt. 

T  the  dead  hour  of  night,  in  the 
early  part  of  the  succeeding  month 
S^HEj?  of  August,  a  lad  belonging  to  the 
boarding-school  was  awakened  by  a  party  of 
men  from  the  jungle,  passing  near  the  house, 
which  was  just  without  the  city  walls,  by  the 
northern  gate.  It  was  not  a  strange  incident  ; 
but  the  boy  had  sufficient  curiosity  to  peep 
through  the  crevices  in  the  braided  bamboo 
walls  of  his  sleeping-room,  and  watch  them 
till  they  had  gained  admittance  to  the  town. 
This  party  was,  from  time  to  time,  followed  by 
several  others,  who  talked  in  low  tones  of  lost 
buffaloes,  of  which  they  seemed  to  be  in 
search,  till  the  wondering  watcher  began  to 


THE    REVOLT.  97 


believe  that  all  the  herds  of  the  jungle  must 
have  abjured  their  leafy  homes,  in  favour  of  a 
town  residence.  It  did  not  escape  the  lad's 
notice,  that  the  shadows  of  the  distant  trees 
were  strangely  like  living  men,  and  that  little 
knots  of  real  men  were  collecting  here  and 
there,  where  there  were  no  shadows,  all  in 
busy  consultation ;  and,  from  time  to  time, 
making  violent  gestures,  and  pointing  towards 
the  gate,  through  which  the  buffalo-seekers 
had  passed,  and  then  to  the  top  of  the  wall, 
and  then^ — he  might  be  mistaken,  but  he  thought 
they  pointed  to  the  house  of  his  master.  His 
hair  began  to  rise,  and  his  timid  heart  to 
flutter,  when  lo !  a  fierce  yell  from  a  hundred 
savage  voices,  answered  by  a  few  straggling 
shots ;  and  he  saw,  in  the  gray  of  coming 
morning,  a  thin  cloud  of  black  smoke  eddying 
away  over  the  town-wall. 

"  Dawai  tah  !  Dawai  tah  !"*  cried,  in  the  same 
instant,  a  voice,  which  seemed  close  beside 
him ;  "  ho-o-o  !  tzayah,  tzayah  !  Dawai  tah  !" 
and  the  frail  house  jarred  with  the  rattling  of 
doors  and  windows. 

Mr.  Boardman  had  been  aroused  from  a 
sound  sleep,  and  not  comprehending  the  sud- 

*  (Provincial,)  Tavoy  has  risen  ! 


98  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

den  uproar,  threw  open  his  door,  and  stood 
upon  the  threshold,  armed  for  the  defence  of 
his  family. 

"  No !  no !"  again  shouted  the  friendly 
voice ;  "  you  understand  not !  Tavoy  has 
risen — all  the  province  is  in  arms  !  Be  quiet, 
teacher ;  you  can  do  no  good !"  Tavoy  in 
rebellion !  this  was  indeed  alarming  informa- 
tion ;  for  a  more  defenceless  town  was  never 
in  possession  of  powerful  conquerors.  No 
English  troops  had  been  stationed  there ;  and 
there  were  only  about  a  hundred  sepoys,  who, 
arranged  with  the  most  consummate  military 
skill,  man  by  man,  could  not  occupy  the  entire 
wall  of  the  long,  straggling  city.  They 
mounted  a  few  small  field-pieces ;  but  the  gun- 
ner was  ill,  and  the  English  officer  in  command 
of  the  detachment  was  known  to  be  on  his 
death-bed.  To  complete  the  helplessness  of 
their  condition,  Col.  Burney,  who  was  both 
military  and  civil  chief,  was  absent  at  Maul- 
main  ;  and  the  direction  of  affairs  at  this  ter- 
rible crisis  devolved  on  a  very  young  physician, 
with  no  adviser  but  Mrs.  Burney. 

While  Mr.  Boardman  took  this  rapid  view 
of  the  state  of  the  besieged  town,  the  firing 
and  the  hideous  yells  continued  with  unabated 
vigour.  It  was  soon  ascertained  that  a  party 


THE    REVOLT.  99 


of  two  hundred  men,  armed  with  clubs,  knives, 
spears,  and  occasionally  a  musket,  had  rushed 
upon  the  powder-magazine  and  gun-shed, 
which  were  defended  by  a  guard  of  six  sepoys 
only,  and  under  a  native  officer.  The  brave 
fellows  knew  that  to  lose  these  was  to  yield 
the  town  at  once;  and  they  firmly  opposed 
their  trained-skill,  few  as  they  were,  to  the 
ill-regulated  force  of  their  numerous  assailants. 
The  magazine  was  very  near  the  gate,  and 
Mr.  Boardman  was  just  beginning  to  apprehend 
danger  from  the  flight  of  the  bullets  in  the 
direction  of  his  house  ;  when  another  cause 
for  alarm  presented  itself.  Parties  had  been 
gathering  beneath  the  walls  from  every  direc- 
tion ;  and  now  one  of  these  paused  close  by 
his  own  compound,  as  though  for  consultation. 
He  saw  their  dusky  visages  turned  in  the 
direction  of  his  home,  and  their  dark  eyes 
gleaming  fiercely,  as  they  leaned  upon  their 
spears  ;  and  their  expressive  gestures  told  him 
that  the  fate  of  his  little  family  depended  on 
that  moment.  He  was  a  peaceful  man,  but  he 
carried  a  white  face,  and  wore  the  costume  of 
the  English.  His  trembling  wife  caught  her 
pale,  emaciated  infant  to  her  bosom,  and  hur- 
ried to  a  low  wooden  shed,  beyond  the  house, 
open  on  the  least  exposed  side.  Here  she 
9* 


100  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.   JUDSON. 

crouched  upon  the  floor,  to  escape  the  bullets, 
which  she  imagined  were  passing  above  her  ; 
while  her  husband,  with  the  boy-watcher  of 
the  night  before,  waited  the  result  within.  But 
the  party  dispersed  without  attempting  harm ; 
and  in  about  an  hour  the  victorious  sepoys 
were  in  possession  of  all  the  city  gates.  The 
insurgents  were  successfully  repulsed,  and 
retreated  beyond  the  city  walls,  leaving  sixty 
slain,  and  their  leader  a  prisoner.  In  the 
meantime,  other  parties  of  the  rebels  had  been 
going  about  the  town,  committing  various  de- 
predations ;  and  a  hundred  desperate  wretches, 
loosed  from  the  fetters  imposed  by  English 
justice,  sprang  from  the  city  prisons  with  the 
eagerness  of  blood-hounds  on  the  scent. 

Mr.  Boardman  seized  the  moment  of  quiet, 
succeeding  the  repulse  of  the  magazine  party, 
to  flee,  with  his  wife  and  child,  to  the  Govern- 
ment-House ;  where  they  were  most  kindly 
received  by  the  intrepid  lady-commander.  The 
first  business  of  the  sepoys  was  to  secure  arms 
and  ammunition.  Three  cannons,  and  a  suffi- 
cient quantity  of  gunpowder,  were  conveyed 
to  a  large  wooden  building  on  the  wharf;  and 
the  remainder  of  the  powder  was  thrown  into 
wells  within  the  town.  This  operation,  re- 
tarded by  almost  incessant  skirmishing,  occu- 


THE    REVOLT.  101 


pied  all  the  time  till  three  o'clock,  when  the 
foreigners  put  themselves  in  readiness  to  evacu- 
ate the  town  ;  for  the  attempt  of  a  hundred  men 
to  hold  it  against  twenty  times  their  number, 
would  have  been  madness.  The  Chinese,  who 
had  built  their  shops  without  the  town,  along 
the  river  side,  constituted  a  party  of  exclusives, 
probably  fifty  in  number,  professing  neutrality ; 
but  still  they  hung  upon  the  skirts  of  the  Eng- 
lish, in  a  manner  to  insure  present  safety,  and 
escape  any  special  odium,  if  the  insurrection 
should,  in  the  end,  prove  unsuccessful.  A 
few  Portuguese  traders  joined  the  foreign 
party,  not  with  the  expectation  of  rendering 
any  assistance,  but  to  gain  protection  for  them- 
selves and  families ;  and  one  wily  old  Mussul- 
man, who  knew  enough  of  the  English  to  see 
how  the  affair  must  necessarily  terminate, 
seized  gladly  on  what  seemed  to  him  a  golden 
opportunity,  and  lent  his  aid  wherever  he 
could  be  most  serviceable.  There  were  but 
three  Englishmen,  beside  Mr.  Boardman  ;  and 
Mrs.  Burney  and  Mrs.  Boardman  were  the 
only  ladies.  At  another  time  this  singular 
procession,  as  it  passed  beyond  the  gate  of  the 
city,  must  needs  have  won  a  smile  from  an 
anchorite.  The  dark  line  of  native  soldiers, 
in  their  Indian  uniform,  the  mulatto-faced 


102  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

Portuguese,  the  keen-eyed  Mussulman,  the 
long  train  of  women  and  children,  attached  to 
the  sepoys  and  others,  stripped  of  the  orna- 
ments which  might  have  roused  the  cupidity 
of  the  enemy,  and  in  the  meanest,  filthiest 
apparel,  and  the  handful  of  English,  with  their 
troop  of  Burmese  and  Hindoo  servants,  con- 
stituted a  singularly  motley  company.  But 
Mrs.  Boardman,  as  she  hurried  on  her  way, 
now  startled  from  her  forced  calmness  by  the 
hideous  yells  of  the  insurgents,  or  the  report 
of  musketry  from  the  defenders  of  her  own 
party,  and  again  half-springing  from  her  path 
as  her  gaze  fell  upon  the  glazed,  staring  eyes 
and  bleeding  wounds  of  the  dead  beside  it, 
was  in  no  condition  to  take  note  of  trivial  cir- 
cumstances. One  apparition,  however,  excited 
her  attention,  even  then — the  figure  of  a  man, 
the  very  personification  of  death,  as  he  often 
comes  in  an  Indian  climate,  seated  on  a  led 
horse,  at  the  head  of  the  small  detachment. 
It  was  the  English  commander,  who  had  been 
hurried  from  his  bed  to  escape  the  massacre ; 
and  who  hoped,  by  appearing  in  his.  saddle 
once  more  before  his  men,  to  give  them  some 
little  encouragement.  But  his  face  was  thin 
and  cadaverous,  his  complexion  almost  orange 
in  hue,  and  his  eye  sunk  deeply  in  its  socket ; 


THE    REVOLT.  103 


and  as  Mrs.  Boardman  looked  on  his  bent, 
skeleton  figure,  swaying  helplessly  to  every 
motion  of  the  animal  he  bestrode,  the  sight 
added  a  kind  of  indefinite  horrour  to  her  im- 
pressions of  their  imminent  peril. 

The  building  on  the  wharf,  in  which  the 
powder  had  been  deposited,  was  the  retreat 
chosen ;  and  such  a  retreat !  Between  three 
and  four  hundred  persons,  with  the  arms,  am- 
munition, provisions,  and  necessary  baggage 
for  all,  huddled  together  under  one  roof — per- 
sons of  different  sexes,  grades,  and  nations, 
forming  a  disagreeable  medley,  which  it  is  im- 
possible for  one,  not  conversant  with  East- 
Indian  scenes,  to  appreciate.  In  this  company 
Mrs.  Boardman  sat  down  to  soothe  her  pale 
little  sufferer,  whose  moans  of  pain  now  fell 
more  heavily  on  her  aching  heart  than  the 
sounds  of  bloodshed  without ;  for  how  could 
his  failing  life  be  sustained  in  this  terrible 
place?  Beside  her,  was  Mrs.  Burney,  with 
her  infant  son  but  three  weeks  old,  and  these 
two  seemed,  in  that  crowded,  miserable  place, 
almost  like  beings  from  another  world. 

Some  of  the  sepoys  found  shelter  within  the 
building,  and  some  in  an  old  shed  or  two  close 
by ;  and  here  for  a  little  time,  all  breathed 
more  freely.  Flying  parties  of  the  enemy 


104  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.   JUDSON. 

would  now  and  then  attempt  an  attack,  but 
they  were  not  allowed  to  come  near  enough  to 
to  use  their  spears,  and  but  little  danger  was 
to  be  apprehended  from  their  muskets.  There 
was  time  now  for  cool  consultation,  and  the 
singular  little  war-council  was  conferring  to- 
gether, when  a  loud  report,  as  of  a  cannon, 
turned  every  visage  black  with  dismay.  A 
groan  broke  from  the  crouching  figures  that 
crammed  the  building,  and  the  boldest  and 
calmest  felt  their  blood  pause,  and  then  creep 
chillingly  along  its  channels. 

"  They  have  mounted  the  cannon,  and  we 
are  lost !"  was  the  simultaneous  exclamation, 
in  various  tongues.  It  had  scarce  been  uttered, 
before  a  man  stood  without  the  building  with 
a  glass  at  his  eye. 

"  What  is  it  ?" 

"A  jinjal."* 

"  Does  it  bear  upon  us  ?" 

"  Yes— directly." 

A  stifled  groan — a  rustling,  rushing  sound, 
as  the  women  threw  themselves  on  their  faces, 
in  the  oriental  style  of  abandonment  to  grief — 
and  then  a  momentary  pause. 

"  What  are  they  doing  now  ?" 

*A  small  Burman  field-piece. 


THE    REVOLT.  105 

"  Mounting  other  pieces — but — but — " 

"  But  what  1"  impatiently. 

"  I  do  not  think  they  will  succeed  in  bring- 
ing them  within  range  of  us.  Ah!  they  are 
loading  again." 

A  breathless  silence  of  a  few  moments  suc- 
ceeded, broken  by  another  report. 

"  What  direction  did  it  take  ?  where  did  it 
strike  ?"  were  the  eager  inquiries,  while  heads 
were  stretched  forward  with  greedy  anxiety  to 
catch  the  answer. 

"  It  passed  above  us." 

"  Thank  God  !"  came  in  an  indistinct  mur- 
mur from  a  few  lips,  drowned  in  exclamations 
of  a  different  character  from  the  crowd. 

"  They  will  aim  lower  next  time." 

"  Five  minutes  were  passed  in  the  most  pro- 
found silence,  and  then  another  ball  sped  over 
the  ridge  of  the  thatched  roof,  and  spent  itself 
upon  the  water." 

"  They  will  aim  better — they  will  soon 
learn." 

"  Where  is  the  sun  1" 

"  Gone ;  —  not  down,  but  hidden  by  the 
trees." 

A  deep-drawn  breath  announced  the  relief 
which  this  answer  had  conveyed  ;  for  the  long 
twilights  of  northern  lands  are  unknown  in 


106  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH 


Burmah,  and  the  firing  must  needs  cease  with 
the  coming  of  darkness. 

Night  closed  about  them  at  last,  though  it 
seemed  with  unusual  slowness  ;  but  it  brought 
no  cessation  of  dangers.  The  stillness  was 
broken  by  the  fierce  yells  of  frequent  assail- 
ants ;  and  the  attempts  to  fire  the  frail  wooden 
building,  made  doubly  alarming  by  the  presence 
of  gunpowder,  were  incessant.  It  was  past 
midnight,  when  a  small  boat  shot  from  the  black 
shadows  that  lay  along  the  shore,  dropped  silent- 
ly a  few  rods  farther  down  the  stream,  and  then 
crept  under  the  crowded  building  on  the  rising 
tide.  The  next  moment  the  quick  eye  of  the 
sepoy  detected  a  sparkle  of  fire  through  a  crevice 
in  the  floor  ;  and  stooping  lower,  and  steadying 
his  gaze,  till  his  vision  became  accustomed  to 
the  obscurity,  he  gained  a  full  view  of  the 
figure  of  the  incendiary,  in  the  execution  of 
his  terrible  design.  He  raised  himself,  and 
applied  the  muzzle  of  his  musket  to  the 
crevice.  A  scream  from  those  nearest 
(for  the  act  had  been  too  sudden  to  be 
stood,)  and  a  heavy  splash  in  the  water  fol- 
lowed the  report ;  and  in  a  few  moments,  an 
empty  boat  was  discovered  floating  away  on 
the  surface  of  the  river. 

Morning  broke  upon  a  weary,  half-fainting, 


THE    REVOLT.  107 


dispirited  company ;  and,  by  its  first  light,  a 
woman  was  discovered  rocking  to  and  fro, 
with  a  dead  child  upon  her  knees.  It  had 
been  suffocated  during  the  accumulated  hor- 
rours  of  the  night. 

At  daylight  the  firing  from  the  walls  was 
renewed,  and  now  the  unsuccessful  marksman 
had  all  day  for  practice.  But  it  came  at  long 
intervals;  for  the  repulse  at  the  magazine  had 
very  much  weakened  the  rebels,  by  depriving 
them  of  powder ;  and  that  which  they  manu- 
factured was  scarce  fit  for  use.  Still  the 
trembling  party  on  the  wharf  was  in  imminent 
danger ;  for  if  the  piece  could  once  be  well- 
aimed,  it  would  continue  to  pour  an  incessant 
fire  upon  them,  without  mercy.  Thus  passed 
two  more  days,  and  thus  passed,  in  still  greater 
danger,  two  sleepless  nights,  till  the  fifth  eve- 
ning, from  the  night  of  the  revolt,  darkened. 
This  was  a  terrible  night.  On  three  sides  of 
them  curled  the  red  flames  from  burning 
houses ;  and  just  as  it  rose  highest,  filling  the 
air  with  showers  of  glittering  sparkles,  a  band 
of  five  hundred  men  raised  the  terrible  war-cry, 
and  rushed  from  the  open  spaces  between  the 
blaze,  upon  their  intended  victims.  But  at 
that  moment  a  heavy  shower  of  rain  descended, 
and  quenched  the  flames ;  while  the  faithful 
10 


108  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

sepoys  gave  their  assailants  a  reception  which 
forced  them  again  to  flee.  But  hope  came  not 
with  the  victory.  The  troops  were  ill  from 
fatigue,  and  exposure  to  the  drenching  rains 
and  burning  suns  of  August ;  and  worse  still, 
they  were  utterly  disheartened.  The  provis- 
ions, which  had  not  been  stored  with  a  view  to 
so  great  a  number,  had  been  dealt  out  spar- 
ingly for  the  last  day,  and  were  now  nearly 
exhausted ;  and  the  entire  company,  men,  wo- 
men and  children,  drooped  in  almost  hopeless 
discouragement.  It  was  impossible  to  convey 
intelligence  to  Mergui  or  Maulmain,  for  the 
single  brig  lying  at  anchor  was  not  sea-worthy ; 
and  thougii  a  small  junk  had  been  wrested 
from  a  company  of  Chinamen,  there  was  no 
hope  of  being  able  to  get  it  under  weigh  with 
a  living  man  on  board.  With  the  light  of  day, 
the  firing  from  the  wall  again  commenced,  and 
continued  almost  incessantly ;  and  now  death 
seemed  to  be  looking  into  the  crowded  building 
from  every  quarter. 

It  was  after  sunrise  when  the  young  physician 
came  hastily,  and  beckoned  Mrs.  Burney  to 
the  door.  A  little  cloud,  like  smoke,  had 
appeared  in  the  horizon  ;  and  the  lady  trembled 
as  she  had  not,  at  the  firing  of  the  cannon  or 
the  attacks  of  the  enemy. 


THE    REVOLT.  109 

"  I  think — I  think — I  do  not  know  !"  she 
exclaimed,  hurriedly ;  while  eager  gazers  gath- 
ered near,  and  fixed  their  eyes  on  the  same 
object. 

"  The  steamer  !  the  steamer !"  at  length  was 
the  simultaneous  cry,  and  the  air  resounded 
with  shouts  of  joy.  As  Col.  Burney  leaped  to 
the  wharf  in  the  most  profound  astonishment 
at  the  strange  uproar,  he  encountered  his  wife 
and  infant  child,  then  glanced  his  eye  on  the 
swarming  building,  then  up  the  city  wall,  and 
he  comprehended  at  once  the  whole  scene. 
The  energetic  officer  lost  not  a  moment's 
time ;  and  long  before  the  sun  set,  the  little 
steam-vessel  was  puffing  on  her  way  back  to 
Maulmain,  with  the  two  worn-out  ladies  rest- 
ing (oh !  what  a  luxury  was  that  rest!)  in  her 
cabin.  Several  shots  were  fired  after  her,  as 
she  left  the  wharf,  but  the  balls  either  missed 
their  aim,  or  spent  themselves  on  the  water. 
Great  was  the  consternation  when  the  news 
reached  Maulmain.  The  roll  of  the  drum 
was  heard  all  night  in  the  busy  cantonments ; 
and  by  peep  of  day,  the  vessel  was  again  under 
weigh,  laden  with  European  soldiers. 

In  the  meantime,  neither  Col.  Burney  nor 
his  men  had  been  idle.  His  presence  infused 
new  life  into  the  troops;  and  many  of  the 


110  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

sick  crept  from  their  damp,  mouldy  mats,  and 
took  their  places  again  in  the  ranks.  He  im- 
mediately commenced  throwing  up  a  breast- 
work ;  but  the  firing  from  the  wall  was  such  a 
constant  source  of  annoyance,  that  he  at  last 
conceived  the  bold  design  of  scaling  it,  and 
taking  possession  of  the  guns.  Followed  by  a 
trusty  band  of  sepoys,  he  was  under  the  walls, 
before  the  rebels  had  suspected  his  intentions ; 
and  with  a  rapidity  of  movement  for  which 
they  were  entirely  unprepared,  and  which  stu- 
pified  them,  by  its  unexpectedness,  he  com- 
menced his  ascent.  Just  as  his  head  appeared 
above  the  wall  a  well-aimed  blow  sent  him 
reeling  backward,  but  he  scarce  lost  his  foot- 
ing, and  though  stunned  and  half-blinded,  he 
was  almost  the  first  to  encounter  the  few  who 
dared  to  resist  the  assault.  In  a  few  moments 
the  jinjal,  which  had  occasioned  the  most 
trouble,  was  hurled  from  its  position,  and  with 
the  other  guns  was  instantly  conveyed  to  the 
wharf  by  the  now  friendly  Chinese.  Elated 
by  this  success,  neither  the  officer  nor  his  men 
could  sit  down  quietly  and  wait  for  assistance ; 
and  so,  by  the  time  Maulmain  was  ringing 
with  the  news  of  the  revolt,  Tavoy  was  in  pos- 
session of  the  brave  Englishman  and  his  faith- 
ful sepoys.  In  an  incredibly  short  time,  the 


THE    REVOLT.  Ill 

bold  leader  of  the  revolt,  (who  boasted  royal 
blood,  and  had  built  his  plans  on  a  broader 
basis  than  was  at  the  time  suspected,)  was 
seized,  and  with  several  of  his  companions, 
received  sentence  of  death,  from  a  court-mar- 
tial. And  while  Mr.  Boardman  stepped  aside 
to  hide  his  own  emotion,  as  well  as  to  escape 
the  entreaties  with  which  the  poor  wretches 
assailed  him,  as  they  clung  to  his  knees,  in  the 
agony  of  their  despair,  four  human  beings 
passed  from  the  flush  and  strength  of  manhood, 
into  an  eternity  of  which  they  had  scarce 
heard.  The  city  prison,  too,  was  crowded 
with  rebels,  awaiting  the  sentence  of  a  civil 
tribunal ;  and  thirty  of  these  afterward  shared 
the  fate  of  their  leader  and  his  companions. 

All  property  that  could  not  be  appropriated, 
had  been  cut  to  pieces  and  destroyed,  in  the 
most  wanton  manner ;  and  while  those  who 
had  fled  to  the  wharf,  were  endeavoring  to  find 
something  worth  saving  in  the  wreck  of  their 
goods,  the  other  inhabitants  were  coming  in, 
family  by  family,  with  the  white  flag  of  peace 
in  their  hands.  And  thus  the  reinforcement 
from  Maulmain  found  those  whom  they  had 
expected  to  deliver  from  an  extremity  of 
peril,  gayly  wearing  the  laurels  which  imagin- 
10* 


112  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

ation   had   already  twined  around   their   own 
brows. 

The  infant  of  the  English  lady  was  of  an 
age  too  tender  to  survive  scenes  like  the  fore- 
going ;  and  soon  after  gaining  a  place  of 
safety,  it  closed  its  eyes  in  death.  But  Mrs. 
Boardman's  little  George  seemed  almost  mirac- 
ulously to  have  escaped  from  harm.  His  ill- 
ness had  made  her  doubly  vigilant,  and  she 
had  guarded  him  night  and  day,  with  unsur- 
passed care,  placing  her  own  bosom  between 
him  and  every  kind  of  suffering.  It  was  to 
this  unceasing  watchfulness,  perhaps,  that  she 
owed  the  long,  tedious  illness,  which  ensued, 
during  the  four  or  five  months  previous  to  the 
birth  of  a  second  son,  the  bud  already  men- 
tioned, as  having  been  so  early  twined  in  the 
same  wreath  with  his  sainted  sister.*  And 
there  was  yet  another  sufferer.  The  suffoca- 
ting air,  the  damp,  dirty  floor,  and  the  walls 
all  dripping  with  moisture,  were  laden  with 
consumption  to  those  whose  constitutions  were 
predisposed  to  this  most  insidious  of  diseases  ; 

#  This  child,  which  died  at  the  age  of  nine  and  a 
half  months,  was  named  Judson  Wade ;  and  thus,  rather 
oddly,  bore,  in  the  order  of  their  seniority  in  the  mis- 
sion, the  names  of  the  three  who  had  been  associated  at 
Amherst  and  Maulmain. 


THE    REVOLT.  113 


and  Mr.  Boardman's  cough  grew  hollow,  his 
voice  husky,  the  shadow  beneath  his  eye 
darker,  the  cheek  more  glowing,  the  eye  more 
brilliant,  the  frame  weaker,  and  heavy  with 
faintnes?,  and  the  spirit  purer  and  more  enthu- 
siastic. He  was  very  near  his  eternal  home. 


WITHERING  AND  WATCHINS. 


"  Come  to  the  land  of  peace  I 
Come  where  the  tempest  hath  no  longer  sway. 
The  shadow  passes  from  the  soul  away. 

The  sounds  of  weeping  cease  !" 

$frs.  Heuians. 


HE  angel-call,  to  which  the  sweet 
poetess  has  given  words,  was  writ- 
ten on  lip,  cheek,  and  forehead  of 
the  failing  missionary ;  but  yet  the  fire  of  life 
went  out  so  slowly,  spark  by  spark,  that  the 
process  was  for  a  long  time  scarce  visible  to 
any,  but  the  eye  of  love.  He  still  pursued  his 
labours  with  ever-growing  enthusiasm — now 
itinerating  about  the  villages  bordering  Tavoy, 
and  now  taking  a  long  tour  among  the  Karen 
mountains,  until  compelled  to  forego  the 
spirit-stirring  employments  and  watch  by  the 
pillow  of  his  suffering  wife.  In  January,  Mrs. 


WITHERING    ^ND    WATCHING.  115 

Boardman  appeared  to  be  upon  the  verge  of 
the  grave.  A  little  after  she  rallied  slightly  ; 
and  in  March  took  a  voyage  to  Maulmain, 
where  she  still  continued  to  improve.  In 
April  she  was  joined  by  her  husband ;  his 
presence  being  necessary  to  supply,  in  some 
degree,  the  places  of  Messrs.  Judson  and 
Wade,  who  had  left  their  station,  for  a  time,  in 
favour  of  Burmah  Proper. 

In  June,  Mrs.  Boardman  thus  writes  a  friend, 
"  My  dear  husband  is  suffering  from  a  distres- 
sing cough,  which  the  doctor  says  is  undoubt- 
edly occasioned  by  an  affection  of  the  lungs. 
It  was  brought  on  by  our  dreadful  exposures 
and  sufferings  during  the  rebellion ;  and,  I 
think,  much  increased  by  the  hardships  he  en- 
dured in  his  village-preaching  at  Tavoy.  He 
used  sometimes  to  walk  twenty  miles  in  a  day, 
preaching  and  teaching  as  he  went,  and  at 
night  have  no  shelter  but  an  open  zayat,  no 
food  at  all  calculated  to  sustain  his  failing 
nature,  and  no  bed,  but  a  straw  mat  spread  on 
the  cold,  open  bamboo  floor." 

And  now  came  the  indescribably  mournful 
watch,  when  the  aching  heart  feels  its  one 
earthly  support  crumbling,  sand  by  sand,  from 
beneath  it,  and  there  is  none  to  raise  a  saving 
finger.  But  still  the  toil  went  on  even  now — 


116  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.   JUDSON. 

ft . 

Mr.  Boardman  preaching,  attending  Scriptural 
recitations,  and  prayer-meetings,  overseeing 
the  printing  of  books,  preparing  lessons  for  the 
boys'  school,  &c.  &c.,  and  Mrs.  Boardman, 
assisted  by  Mrs.  Bennett,  who  had  lately  ar- 
rived, busy  in  her  own  scarcely  less  important 
province.  In  November  they  returned  to 
Tavoy,  and  from  the  cabin  of  the  vessel,  which 
conveyed  them  thither,  thus  speaks  the  sorrow- 
ful watcher  : — "  Oh,  my  dear  mother,  it  would 
distress  you  to  see  how  emaciated  he  is  ! — and 
so  weak,  that  he  is  scarce  able  to  move.  *  *  * 
God  is  calling  to  me  in  a  most  impressive 
manner,  to  set  my  heart  on  heavenly  things. 
Two  lovely  infants  already  in  the  world  of 
bliss — my  beloved  husband  suffering  under  a 
disease,  which  will  most  assuredly  take  him 
from  me — my  own  health  poor,  and  little 
Georgie  often  ill.  Oh,  how  little  have  I  to 
attach  me  to  this  wretched,  fallen  world  !" 

They  were  welcomed  to  Tavoy  by  affection- 
ate hearts— especially  the  simple,  grateful 
Karens,  who  flocked  to  them  in  crowds  from 
their  homes  in  the  wilderness.  Mrs.  Board- 
man thus  makes  mention  of  this  singular 
people,  in  a  letter,  bearing  date  January  10th, 
1831: 

"  They"  (the  Karens)  "  had  heard  of  Mr. 


WITHERING    AND    WATCHING.  117 

Boardman's  illness  ;  and  the  sadness  depicted 
on  their  countenances,  when  they  saw  him  so 
pale  and  emaciated,  affected  me  much.  I  felt 
that  God  had,  indeed,  raised  me  up  sympa- 
thizing friends,  even  in  the  wilderness,  among 
those  who  are  considered  barbarians  by  the 
Burmans  themselves.  Before  we  had  been 
here  a  fortnight,  one  party  came  for  the  sole 
purpose  of  seeing  us  and  hearing  the  gospel. 
They  remained  four  days,  and  the  eagerness 
with  which  they  listened  to  our  instructions,  and 
the  deep  interest  they  manifested  in  religious 
affairs,  reminded  us  of  our  associations  at 
home. 

The  three  first  days  were  spent  in  examin- 
ing candidates  for  baptism,  and  conversing 
with,  and  instructing  those  who  had  previously 
been  baptized.  Sometimes  Mr.  Boardman  sat 
up  in  a  chair,  and  addressed  them  for  a  few 
moments ;  but  oftener,  I  sat  on  his  sick  couch, 
and  interpreted  his  feeble  whispers.  He  was 
nearly  overcome  by  the  gladdening  prospect, 
and  frequently  wept.  But  the  most  touchingly- 
interesting  time  was  the  day  before  they  left 
us,  when  nineteen  were  baptized.  *  *  * 
Our  road  lay  through  that  part  of  the  town 
which  is  filled  with  monasteries  ;  and  over  the 
huge  brick  walls  we  could  see  multitudes  of 


118  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

priests  and  novitiates  looking  at  us — I  doubt 
not  with  mingled  scorn  and  hatred.  As  to  the 
common  people  they  reviled  us  openly,  and  in 
so  cruel  a  manner,  that  my  heart  was  ready  to 
burst.  Mr.  Boardman  was  too  ill  to  walk  or 
ride  on  horseback,  and  there  being  no  other 
mode  of  conveyance  in  the  town,  the  Karens 
carried  him  out  on  his  little  cot.  '  See  !'  said 
the  revilers,  in  bitter  ridicule,  to  two  Tavoyan 
disciples,  '  see  your  teacher  ! — a  living  man 
carried  as  if  he  were  already  dead  !'  But  I 
will  not  shock  your  feelings  by  repeating  their 
taunts.  We  pitied  them,  and  passed  on  in 
silence.  At  length  we  reached  a  beautiful 
pond,  nearly  a  mile  in  circumference,  and  bor- 
dered by  green  trees.  Here  we  stopped — a 
party  of  about  fifty  in  number — and  kneeling 
on  the  grass,  implored  the  Divine  blessing. 
Then  Moung  Ing*  administered  the  ordinance 
of  baptism  to  nineteen  believers,  who  were,  a 
little  time  ago,  in  utter  ignorance  of  the  true 
God.  *  *  *  During  this  scene,  grief  and  joy 
alternately  took  possession  of  my  breast.  To 

#  One  of  the  earliest  Rangoon  disciples,  and  the 
second  native  that  was  ordained.  He  had  been  sent  to 
Mergui,  by  the  Maulmain  Missionaries,  and,  fortunately, 
touched  at  Tavoy  in  time  to  render  Mr.  B.  an  important 
service. 


WITHERING    AND    WATCHING.  119 

see  so  many  in  this  dark,  heathen  land  '  putting 
on  Christ,'  could  but  fill  me  with  joy  and  grati- 
tude ;  but  when  I  looked  at  my  beloved  hus- 
band, lying  pale  on  his  couch,  and  recollected 
the  last  time  we  stood  by  those  waters,  my 
heart  could  not  but  be  sad  at  the  contrast.  It 
was  on  a  similar  occasion,  and  the  surrounding 
mountains  echoed  with  his  voice,  as  he  pro- 
nounced the  words,  'I  baptize  thee,'  &c. 
Now  his  strength  was  exhausted,  his  voice 
was  weak ;  and  the  thought  that  I  should  no 
more  see  him  administer  this  blessed  ordi- 
nance, filled  me  with  inexpressible  grief.  But 
in  the  evening,  when  we  came  together  to  re- 
ceive from  him  the  emblems  of  our  Saviour's 
sufferings,  my  feelings  changed.  He  made  an 
effort;  and  God  helped  him  to  go  through 
with  the  exercises  alone,  and  without  any  ap- 
parent injury  to  his  health.  A  breathless 
silence  pervaded  the  room,  excepting  the  sound 
of  his  voice,  which  was  so  low  and  feeble,  that 
it  seemed  to  carry  the  assurance  that  we  should 
feast  no  more  together,  till  we  met  in  our 
Father's  kingdom.  When  he  handed  us  the 
cup,  it  was  to  me,  as  though  our  Saviour  had 
been  in  the  midst,  and  I  could  say, 

'  How  sweet  and  awful  is  the  place, 
With  Christ  within  the  doors !' 
11 


120  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

The  grief  and  anguish,  which  I  felt  at  the 
baptism,  had  subsided  into  a  calm ;  and  in 
contemplating  the  agonies  of  our  blessed  Re- 
deemer, I,  for  a  moment,  forgot  the  bitter 
cup  preparing  for  myself." 

Oh  !  what  a  blessed  resource  has  the  Chris- 
tian !  what  a  sure  anchor !  Though  every 
earthly  stay  be  wrested  from  the  fainting  heart, 
if  it  but  turn  from  the  "  broken  reed"  to 
Heaven,  it  will  find  a  pillar  of  strength,  which 
cannot  fail.  Against  this  stand  the  mightiest 
soldiers  of  the  Cross,  the  Pauls  and  the  Luthers 
in  the  Christian  field ;  the  poor,  unknown 
widow  leans  on  this,  when  her  children  cry  to 
her  for  bread,  which  she  cannot  give,  and  yet 
her  heart  keeps  back  from  breaking ;  and  to 
this  clung  the  lone  missionary's  wife,  when  she 
listened  to  the  faltering  accents  of  that  voice, 
which  she  had  loved  in  its  strength,  and  forgot, 
even  as  she  listened,  the  "  bitter  cup"  prepar- 
ing for  her.  This,  too,  was  the  support  of  the 
dying  sufferer,  while  his  spirit  increased  each 
day  in  loveliness,  as  though  it  had  already 
caught  some  of  the  hues  of  the  beautiful  land 
which  it  was  silently  approaching.  "  He  ex- 
hibited," says  the  watching  wife,  "  a  tender- 
ness of  spirit,  a  holy  sensibility,  such  as  I 
never  witnessed  before.  He  seemed  to  see  the 


WITHERING  AND  WATCHING.      121 

goodness  of  God  in  everything.  He  would 
weep  while  conversing  on  the  love  of  Jesus  ; 
and  words  cannot  describe  to  you  the  depth  of 
feeling  with  which  he  spoke  of  his  own  un- 
worthiness." 

The  year  closed,  and  another  one  opened, 
and  yet  the  missionary  lingered;  for  a  few 
more  sheaves  were  to  be  given  him  on  earth, 
before  he  received  his  crown  in  the  Paradise 
of  ransomed  spirits.  How  different  from  the 
commencement  of  the  preceding  year  !  Then 
Mrs.  Boardman  was  the  sufferer,  and  her  hus- 
band wrote, — "  She  still  grows  weaker,  and 
her  case  is  now  more  alarming.  All  mission- 
ary labour  has  been  suspended  for  a  week,  to 
allow  me  all  my  time  in  taking  care  of  her. 
I  have  written  to  Maulmain  for  some  of  our 
friends  to  come  to  our  assistance,  and  be  with 
us,  at  this  critical  time  ;  and  we  hope  they  will 
be  able  and  disposed  to  comply  with  the  re- 
quest. Should  they  come  even  immediately,  I 
can  scarcely  hope  for  their  arrival  before  the 
crisis,  or  probably,  fatal  termination,  of  my 
dear  partner's  disorder.  My  comfort,  in  my 
present  affliction  is  the  thought,  that  if  to  our 
former  trials,  the  Lord  sees  fit  to  add  that  of 
removing  my  beloved  companion,  He  does  it 
with  a  perfect  knowledge  of  all  the  blessed- 


122  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

ness,  which  death,  in  its  consequences,  will 
confer  on  her,  and  of  all  the  sorrows  and  dis- 
tresses which  her  loss  will  occasion  her  be- 
reaved husband  and  orphan  children,  in  the 
peculiarities  of  our  present  condition.  It  af- 
fords me  great  relief  to  have  been  assured  by 
her,  that  the  bitterness  of  death  is  past,  and 
that  heavenly  glories  have  been  unfolded  in  a 
wonderful  and  unexpected  manner  to  her 
view." 

And  now  Mrs.  Boardman  had  the  same  sor- 
row and  the  same  consolations.  Her  strength 
had  increased,  as  her  toils  grew  more  numer- 
ous, and  the  burden  on  her  spirit  heavier ;  and 
she  had  the  satisfaction  of  finding  herself  equal 
to  the  performance  of  her  sweetly  painful  duties. 
Among  the  last  traces  of  her  dying  husband's 
pen,  are  these  words,  addressed  to  a  sister  : 

"  During  my  present  protracted  illness,  and 
especially  when  I  was  at  the  worst  stage,  she 
was  the  tenderest,  most  assiduous,  attentive 
and  affectionate  of  nurses.  Without  her,  I 
think  I  should  have  finished  my  career  in  a  few 
days.  And  even  when  our  lamented,  darling 
babe  lay  struggling  in  the  very  arms  of  death, 
though  she  was  with  him  constantly,  night  and 
day,  she  did  not  allow  me  to  suffer  one  mo- 
ment, for  lack  of  her  attentions.  I  cannot 


WITHERING    AND    WATCHING. 


123 


write  what  I  feel  on  this  tender  subject.  But 
oh!  what  kindness  in  our  Heavenly  Father, 
that  when  her  services  were  so  much  needed, 
her  health  was  preserved,  and  she  had  strength 
given  her  to  perform  her  arduous  labours." 


11* 


"DEATH  IN  THE  JUNGLE." 

"  Oh  !  is  it  not  a  noble  thing  to  die, 
Aa  dies  the  Christian,  •with  his  armour  on  ! — " 

Willis. 

•  N  January,  1831,  the  Rev.  Francis 
Mason  arrived  at  Tavoy.  On  the  jetty, 
reclining  helplessly  in  the  chair  which 
had  served  the  purpose  of  a  carriage,  a  pale, 
worn-out  man,  with  "  the  characters  of  death 
in  his  countenance,"  waited  to  welcome  his 
successor. 

"  You  have  come  in  time,  my  brother,"  was 
the  language  of  his  glance,  as  he  extended  his 
emaciated,  colourless  hand;  and  so,  indeed, 
he  had. 

In  eight  days  after,  the  little  family  was  on 
its  way  to  the  Karen  wilderness,  and  Mr. 
Mason  made  one  of  the  party.  When  they 
returned,  a  corpse  was  borne  upon  a  litter, 
which  had  conveyed  the  invalid  from  the  town. 
We  leave  the  tale  to  another  pen. 


DEATH  IN  THE  JUNGLE.         125 
LETTER  FROM  MRS.  BOARDMAN. 

Tavoy,  March  7,  1831. 
"  My  beloved  Parents  : 

"  With  a  heart  glowing  with  joy,  and  at  the 
same  time  rent  with  anguish  unutterable,  I 
take  my  pen  to  address  you.  You,  too,  will 
rejoice  when  you  hear  what  God  has  wrought 
through  the  instrumentality  of  your  beloved 
son.  Yes,  you  will  bless  God  that  you  were 
enabled  to  devote  him  to  this  blessed  service 
among  the  heathen,  when  I  tell  you  that  within 
the  last  two  months,  fifty-seven  have  been  bap- 
tized, all  Karens,  excepting  one*  a  little  boy  of 
the  school  and  son  of  the  native  governor. 
Twenty-three  were  baptized  in  this  city  by 
Moung  Ing,  and  thirty-four  in  their  native  wil- 
derness by  Mr.  Mason. 

"  Mr.  Mason  arrived  Jan.  23d,  and  on  the 
31st,  he,  with  Mr.  Boardman,  myself  and 
George,  set  out  on  a  long-promised  tour  among 
the  Karens.  Mr.  Boardman  was  very  feeble, 
but  we  hoped  the  change  of  air  and  scenery 
would  be  beneficial.  A  company  of  Karens 
had  come  to  convey  us  out,  Mr.  Boardman  on 
his  bed,  and  me  in  a  chair.  We  reached  the 
place  on  the  third  day,  and  found  they  had 
erected  a  bamboo  chapel  on  a  beautiful  stream 


126  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

at  the  base  of  a  range  of  mountains.  The 
place  was  central,  and  nearly  one  hundred 
persons  had  assembled,  more  than  half  of  them 
applicants  for  baptism.  Oh  it  was  a  sight  cal- 
culated to  call  forth  the  liveliest  joy  of  which 
human  nature  is  susceptible,  and  made  me,  for 
a  moment,  forget  my  bitter  griefs — a  sight  far 
surpassing  all  I  had  ever  anticipated,  even  in 
my  most  sanguine  hours.  The  Karens  cooked, 
ate  and  slept  on  the  ground,  by  the  river-side, 
with  no  other  shelter  than  the  trees  of  the 
forest.  Three  years  ago  they  were  sunk  in 
the  lowest  depths  of  ignorance  and  supersti- 
tion. Now  the  glad  tidings  of  mercy  had 
reached  them,  and  they  were  willing  to  live  in 
the  open  air,  away  from  their  homes,  for  the 
sake  of  enjoying  the  privileges  of  the  Gospel. 

"  My  dear  husband  had  borne  the  journey 
better  than  we  had  feared,  though  he  suffered 
from  exhaustion  and  pain  in  his  side,  which, 
however,  was  much  relieved  by  a  little  atten- 
tion. His  spirits  were  unusually  good,  and 
we  fondly  hoped  that  a  few  days'  residence  in 
that  delightful,  airy  spot,  surrounded  by  his 
loved  Karens,  would  recruit  and  invigorate  his 
weakened  frame.  But  I  soon  perceived  he 
was  failing,  and  tenderly  urged  his  return  to 
town,  where  he  could  enjoy  the  quiet  of  home, 


DEATH    IN   THE    JUNGLE.  127 

and  the  benefit  of  medical  advice.  But  he 
repelled  the  thought  at  once,  saying  he  confi- 
dently expected  improvement  from  the  change, 
and  that  the  disappointment  would  be  worse 
for  him  than  staying.  '  And  even,'  added  he, 
'  should  my  poor,  unprofitable  life  be  somewhat 
shortened  by  staying,  ought  I,  on  that  account 
merely,  to  leave  this  interesting  field  1  Should 
I  not  rather  stay  and  assist  in  gathering  in 
these  dear  scattered  lambs  of  the  fold  ?  You 
know,  Sarah,  that  coming  on  a  foreign  mis- 
sion involves  the  probability  of  a  shorter  life, 
than  staying  in  one's  native  country.  And  yet 
obedience  to  our  Lord,  and  compassion  for  the 
perishing  heathen,  induced  us  to  make  this 
sacrifice.  And  have  we  ever  repented  that  we 
came  ?  No ;  I  trust  we  can  both  say  that  we 
bless  God  for  bringing  us  to  Burmah,  for 
directing  our  footsteps  to  Tavoy,  and  even  for 
leading  us  hither.  You  already  know,  my 
love,'  he  continued,  with  a  look  of  tenderness 
never  to  be  forgotten,  '  that  I  cannot  live  long, 
I  must  sink  under  this  disease ;  and  should 
we  go  home  now,  the  all-important  business 
which  brought  us  out,  must  be  given  up,  and  I 
might  linger  out  a  few  days  of  suffering,  stung 
with  the  reflection,  that  I  had  preferred  a  few 
idle  days,  to  my  Master's  service.  Do  not, 


128  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

therefore,  ask  me  to  go,  till  these  poor  Karens 
have  been  baptized.'  I  saw  he  was  right,  but 
my  feelings  revolted.  Nothing  seemed  so  valu- 
able as  his  life,  and  I  felt  that  I  could  make 
any  sacrifice  to  prolong  it,  though  it  were  but 
for  one  hour.  Still  a  desire  to  gratify  him,  if 
no  higher  motive,  made  me  silent,  though  my 
heart  ached  to  see  him  so  ill  in  such  a 
wretched  place,  deprived  of  many  of  the  com- 
forts of  life,  to  say  nothing  of  the  indulgencies 
desirable  in  sickness. 

"  The  chapel  was  large,  but  open  on  all 
sides,  excepting  a  small  place  built  up  for  Mr. 
Mason,  and  a  room  about  five  feet  wide  and 
ten  feet  long,  for  the  accommodation  of  Mr. 
Boardman  and  myself  with  our  little  boy. 
The  roof  was  so  low,  that  I  could  not  stand 
upright ;  and  it  was  but  poorly  enclosed,  so 
that  he  was  exposed  to  the  burning  rays  of  the 
sun  by  day,  and  to  the  cold  winds  and  damp 
fog  by  night.  But  his  mind  was  happy,  and 
he  would  often  say,  '  If  I  live  to  see  this  one 
ingathering,  I  may  well  exclaim,  with  happy 
Simeon,  Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy  servant 
depart  in  peace,  according  to  thy  word,  for 
mine  eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation.  How  many 
ministers  have  wished  they  might  die  in  their 
pulpits;  and  would  not,  dying  in  a  spot  like 


DEATH    IN    THE    JUNGLE.  129 

this,  be  even  more  blessed  than  dying  in  a 
pulpit  at  home  ?  I  feel  that  it  would.' 

"  Nor  was  it  merely  the  pleasing  state  of 
things  around  him  that  filled  his  mind  with 
comfort.  He  would  sometimes  dwell  on  the 
infinite  compassion  of  God,  and  his  own  un- 
worthiness,  till  his  strength  was  quite  exhaust- 
ed ;  and  though  he  told  Mr.  Mason  that  he 
had  not  the  rapture  which  he  had  sometimes 
enjoyed,  yet  his  mind  was  calm  and  peaceful ; 
and  it  was  plainly  perceptible,  that  earthly 
passions  had  died  away,  and  that  he  was  enjoy- 
ing sweet  foretastes  of  that  rest  into  which  he 
was  so  soon  to  enter.  He  would  often  say  to 
me,  '  My  meditations  are  very  sweet,  though 
my  mind  seems  as  much  weakened  as  my  body. 
I  have  not  had  that  liveliness  of  feeling,  which 
I  have  sometimes  enjoyed,  owing  to  my  great 
weakness,  but  I  shall  soon  be  released  from 
shackles,  and  be  where  I  can  praise  God  con- 
tinually, without  weariness.  My  thoughts  de- 
light to  dwell  on  these  words,  There  is  no 
night  there.' 

"  I  felt  that  the  time  of  separation  was  fast 
approaching,  and  said  to  him,  '  My  dear,  I 
have  one  request  to  make  ;  it  is,  that  you  would 
pray  much  tor  George,  during  your  few  remain- 
ing days.  I  shall  soon  be  left  alone,  almost 


130  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

the  only  one  on  earth  to  pray  for  him,  and  I 
have  great  confidence  in  your  dying  prayers.' 
He  looked  earnestly  at  the  little  boy,  and  said, 
'  I  will  try  to  pray  for  him ;  but  I  trust  very 
many  prayers  will  ascend  for  the  dear  child 
from  our  friends  at  home,  who  will  be  induced 
to  supplicate  the  more  earnestly  for  him,  when 
they  hear  that  he  is  left  fatherless  in  a  heathen 
land.' 

"  On  Wednesday,  while  looking  in  the  glass, 
he  seemed  at  once  to  see  symptoms  of  his  ap- 
proaching dissolution,  and  said,  without  emo- 
tion, '  I  have  altered  greatly — I  am  sinking  into 
the  grave  very  fast — just  on  the  verge.'  Mr. 
Mason  said  to  him,  '  Is  there  nothing  we  can 
do  for  you  ?  Had  we  not  better  call  the  physi- 
cian ?  Or  shall  we  try  to  remove  you  into  town 
immediately  ?'  After  a  few  momenta'  delibera- 
tion, it  was  concluded  to  defer  the  baptism  of 
the  male  applicants,  and  set  out  for  home  early 
the  next  morning.  Nearly  all  the  female  can- 
didates had  been  examined,  and  as  it  is  diffi- 
cult for  them  to  come  to  town,  it  was  thought 
best  that  Mr.  Mason  should  baptize  them  in 
the  evening.  We  knelt,  and  Mr.  Mason  having 
prayed  for  a  blessing  on  the  decision,  we  sat 
down  to  breakfast  with  sorrowful  hearts. 

"  While  we  were  at  the  table,  my  beloved 


DEATH    IN    THE    JUNGLE.  131 

husband  said,  'I  shall  soon  be  thrown  away 
for  this  world ;  but  I  hope  the  Lord  Jesus  will 
take  me  up.  That  merciful  Being,  who  is 
represented  as  passing  by,  and  having  com- 
passion on  the  poor  cast-out  infant,  will  not 
suffer  me  to  perish.  O,  I  have  no  hope  but  in 
the  wonderful,  condescending,  infinite  mercy 
of  God,  through  his  dear  Son.  I  cast  my  poor 
perishing  soul,  loaded  with  sin,  as  it  is,  upon 
his  compassionate  arms,  assured  that  all  will 
be  forever  safe.'  On  seeing  my  tears,  he  said, 
'  Are  you  not  reconciled  to  the  will  of  God, 
my  love  ?'  When  T  told  him  I  hoped  I  did  not 
feel  unreconciled,  he  continued,  '  I  have  long 
ago,  and  many  times,  committed  you  and  our 
little  one  into  the  hands  of  our  covenant  God. 
He  is  the  husband  of  the  widow  and  the  father 
of  the  fatherless.  Leave  thy  fatherless  chil- 
dren, I  will  preserve  them  alive ;  and  let  thy 
widows  trust  in  me,  saith  the  Lord.  He  will 
be  your  stay  and  support,  when  I  am  gone. 
The  separation  will  be  but  short.  O,  hovf 
happy  I  shall  be  to  welcome  you  to  heaven.' 
He  then  addressed  Mr.  Mason,  as  follows : — 
'  Brother,  I  am  heartily  rejoiced,  and  bless 
God  that  you  have  arrived,  and  especially  am 
I  gratified,  that  you  are  so  much  interested  for 
the  poor  Karens.  You  will,  I  am  assured, 
12 


132  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

watch  over  them,  and  take  care  of  them  ;  and 
if  some  of  them  turn  back,  you  will  still  care 
for  them.  As  to  my  dear  wife  and  child,  I 
know  you  will  do  all  in  your  power  to  make 
them  comfortable.  Mrs.  B.  will  probably  spend 
the  ensuing  rains  in  Tavoy.  She  will  be 
happy  with  you  and  Mrs.  Mason ;  that  is,  as 
happy  as  she  can  be  in  her  state  of  loneliness. 
She  will  mourn  for  me,  and  a  widow's  state  is 
desolate  and  sorrowful  at  best.  But  God  will 
be  infinitely  better  to  her,  than  I  have  ever 
been.'  On  the  same  day,  he  wished  me  to  read 
some  hymns  on  affliction,  sickness,  death,  &/c. 
I  took  Wesley's  Hymn  Book,  the  only  one  we 
had  with  us,  and  read  several,  among  others, 
the  one  beginning,  '  Ah,  lovely  appearance  of 
death.' 

"  On  Wednesday  evening,  thirty-four  per- 
sons were  baptized.  Mr.  Boardman  was  car- 
ried to  the  water  side,  though  so  weak  that  he 
could  hardly  breathe  without  the  continual  use 
ot  the  fan  and  the  smelling-bottle.  The  joyful 
sight  was  almost  too  much  for  his  feeble  frame. 
When  we  reached  the  chapel,  he  said  he  would 
like  to  sit  up  and  take  tea  with  us.  We  placed 
his  cot  near  the  table,  and  having  bolstered  him 
up,  we  took  tea  together.  He  asked  the  bles- 
sing, and  did  it  with  his  right  hand  upraised, 


DEATH    IN   THE    JUNGLE.  133 

and  in  a  tone  that  struck  me  to  the  heart.  It 
was  the  same  tremulous,  yet  urgent,  and  I  had 
almost  said,  unearthly  voice,  with  which  my 
aged  grandfather  used  to  pray.  We  now  be- 
gan to  notice  that  brightening  of  the  mental 
faculties,  which  I  had  heard  spoken  of,  in  per- 
sons near  their  end. 

"  After  tea  was  removed,  all  the  disciples 
present,  about  fifty  in  number,  gathered  around 
him,  and  he  addressed  them  for  a  few  moments 
in  language  like  the  following : — '  I  did  hope 
to  stay  with  you  till  after  Lord's-day,  and  ad- 
minister to  you  once  more  the  Lord's  Supper. 
But  God  is  calling  me  away  from  you.  I  am 
about  to  die,  and  shall  soon  be  inconceivably 
happy  in  heaven.  When  I  am  gone,  remem- 
ber what  I  have  taught  you  ;  and  O,  be  careful 
to  persevere  unto  the  end,  that  when  you  die, 
we  may  meet  one  another  in  the  presence  of 
God,  never  more  to  part.  Listen  to  the  word 
of  the  new  teacher  and  the  teacheress  as  you 
haue  done  to  mine.  The  teacheress  will  be 
very  much  distressed.  Strive  to  lighten  her 
burdens,  and  comfort  her  by  your  good  con- 
duct. Do  not  neglect  prayer.  The  eternal 
God,  to  whom  you  pray,  is  unchangeable. 
Earthly  teachers  sicken  and  die,  but  God  re- 
mains forever  the  same.  Love  Jesus  Christ 


134  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

with  all  your  hearts,  and  you  will  be  forever 
safe.'  This  address  I  gathered  from  the  Ka- 
rens, as  I  was  absent  preparing  his  things  for 
the  night.  Having  rested  a  few  minutes,  he 
offered  a  short  prayer,  and  then  with  Mr.  Ma- 
son's assistance,  distributed  tracts  and  portions 
of  Scripture  to  them  all.  Early  the  next  morn- 
ing we  left  for  home,  accompanied  by  nearly 
all  the  males  and  some  of  the  females,  the  re- 
mainder returning  to  their  homes  in  the  wil- 
derness. Mr.  Boardman  was  free  from  pain 
during  the  day,  and  there  was  no  unfavorable 
change,  except  that  his  mouth  grew  sore.  But 
at  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  we  were  over- 
taken by  a  violent  shower  of  rain,  accompanied 
by  lightning  and  thunder.  There  was  no 
house  in  sight,  and  we  were  obliged  to  remain 
in  the  open  air,  exposed  to  the  merciless  storm. 
We  covered  him  with  mats  and  blankets,  and 
held  our  umbrellas  over  him,  all  to  no  purpose, 
was  obliged  to  stand  and  see  the  storm  beat- 
upon  him,  till  his  mattress  and  pillows 
were  drenched  with  rain.  We  hastened  on, 
and  soon  came  to  a  Tavoy  house.  The  inha- 
bitants at  first  refused  us  admittance,  and  we 
ran  for  shelter  into  the  out-houses.  The  shed 
I  happened  to  enter,  proved  to  be  the  '  house 
of  their  gods,'  and  thus  I  committed  an  almost 


DEATH    IN   THE    JUNGLE.  135 

unpardonable  offence.  After  some  persuasion 
they  admitted  us  into  the  house,  or  rather  ve- 
randah, for  they  would  not  allow  us  to  sleep 
inside,  though  I  begged  the  privilege  for  my 
sick  husband  with  tears.  In  ordinary  cases, 
perhaps,  they  would  have  been  hospitable  ;  but 
they  knew  that  Mr.  Boardman  was  a  teacher 
of  a  foreign  religion,  and  that  the  Karens  in 
our  company  had  embraced  that  religion. 

"  At  evening  worship,  Mr.  Boardman  re- 
quested Mr.  Mason  to  read  the  thirty-fourth 
Psalm.  He  seemed  almost  spent,  and  said, 
4  This  poor  perishing  dust  will  soon  be  laid  in 
the  grave ;  but  God  can  employ  other  lumps 
of  clay  to  perform  his  will,  as  easily  as  he  has 
this  poor  unworthy  one.'  I  told  him,  I  should 
like  to  sit  up  and  watch  by  him,  but  he  ob- 
jected, and  said  in  a  tender  supplicating  tone, 
'cannot  we  sleep  together?'  The  rain  still 
continued,  and  his  cot  was  wet,  so  that  he  was 
obliged  to  lie  on  the  bamboo  floor.  Having 
found  a  place  where  our  little  boy  could  sleep 
without  danger  of  falling  through  openings  in 
the  floor,  I  threw  myself  down,  without  un- 
dressing, beside  my  beloved  husband.  I  spoke 
to  him  often  during  the  night,  and  he  said  he 
felt  well,  excepting  an  uncomfortable  feeling 
in  his  mouth  and  throat.  This  was  somewhat 
12* 


136  MEMOIR   OP    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

relieved  by  frequent  washings  with  cold  water. 
Miserably  wretched  as  his  situation  was,  he 
did  not  complain ;  on  the  contrary,  his  heart 
seemed  overflowing  with  gratitude.  '  O,'  said 
he,  '  how  kind  and  good  our  Father  in  heaven 
is  to  me;  how  many  are  racked  with  pain, 
while  I,  though  near  the  grave,  am  almost  free 
from  distress  of  body.  I  suffer  nothing,  noth^ 
ing  to  what  you,  my  dear  Sarah,  had  to  endure 
last  year,  when  I  thought  I  must  lose  you. 
And  then  I  have  you  to  move  me  so  tenderly. 
I  should  have  sunk  into  the  grave  ere  this,  but 
for  your  assiduous  attention.  And  brother 
Mason  is  as  kind  to  me  as  if  he  were  my  own 
brother.  And  then  how  many,  in  addition  to 
pain  of  body,  have  anguish  of  soul,  while  my 
mind  is  sweetly  stayed  on  God.'  On  my  say- 
ing, '  I  hope  we  shall  be  at  home  to-morrow 
night,  where  you  can  lie  on  your  comfortable 
bed,  and  I  can  nurse  you  as  I  wish,'  he  said, 
'  I  want  nothing  that  the  world  can  afford,  but 
my  wife  and  friends  ;  earthly  conveniences  and 
comforts  are  of  little  consequence  to  one  so 
near  heaven.  I  only  want  them  for  your  sake.' 
In  the  morning  we  thought  him  a  little  better, 
though  I  perceived,  when  I  gave  him  his  sago, 
that  his  breath  was  very  short.  He,  however, 
took  rather  more  nourishment  than  usual,  and 


DEATH    IN    THE   JUNGLE.  137 

spoke  about  the  manner  of  his  conveyance 
home.  We  ascertained  that  by  waiting  until 
twelve  o'clock,  we  could  go  the  greater  part  of 
the  way  by  water. 

"  At  about  nine  o'clock,  his  hands  and  feet 
grew  cold,  and  the  affectionate  Karens  rubbed 
them  all  the  forenoon,  excepting  a  few  mo- 
ments when  he  requested  to  be  left  alone.  At 
ten  o'clock,  he  was  much  distressed  for  breath, 
and  I  thought  the  long  dreaded  moment  had 
arrived.  I  asked  him,  if  he  felt  as  if  he  was 
going  home, — '  not  just  yet,'  he  replied.  On 
giving  him  a  little  wine  and  water,  he  revived. 
Shortly  after,  he  said,  '  you  were  alarmed  with- 
out cause,  just  now,  dear — I  know  the  reason 
of  the  distress  I  felt,  but  am  too  weak  to  ex- 
plain it  to  you.'  In  a  few  moments  he  said  to 
me,  '  Since  you  spoke  to  me  about  George,  I 
have  prayed  for  him  almost  incessantly — more 
than  in  all  my  life  before.' 

"  It  drew  near  twelve,  the  time  for  us  to  go 
to  the  boat.  We  were  distressed  at  the 
thought  of  removing  him,  when  evidently  so 
near  the  last  struggle,  though  we  did  not  think 
it  so  near  as  it  really  was.  But  there  was  no 
alternative.  The  chilling  frown  of  the  iron- 
faced  Tavoyan  was  to  us  as  if  he  was  continu- 
ally saying,  '  be  gone.'  I  wanted  a  little  broth 


138  MEMOIR   OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

for  my  expiring  husband,  but  on  asking  them 
for  a  fowl  they  said  they  had  none,  though  at 
that  instant,  on  glancing  my  eye  through  an 
opening  in  the  floor,  I  saw  three  or  four  under 
the  house.  My  heart  was  well  nigh  breaking. 
"  We  hastened  to  the  boat,  which  was  only 
a  few  steps  from  the  house.  The  Karens  car- 
ried Mr.  Boardman  first,  and  as  the  shore  was 
muddy,  I  was  obliged  to  wait  till  they  could 
return  for  me.  They  took  me  immediately  to 
him ;  but  O,  the  agony  of  my  soul,  when  I 
saw  the  hand  of  death  was  on  him !  He  was 
looking  me  full  in  the  face,  but  his  eyes  were 
changed,  not  dimmed,  but  brightened,  and  the 
pupils  so  dilated,  that  I  feared  he  could  not 
see  me.  I  spoke  to  him — kissed  him — but  he 
made  no  return,  though  I  fancied  that  he  tried 
to  move  his  lips.  I  pressed  his  hand,  knowing 
that  if  he  could,  he  would  return  the  pressure  ; 
but,  alas  !  for  the  first  time,  he  was  insensible 
to  my  love,  and  forever.  I  had  brought  a  glass 
of  wine  and  water  already  mixed,  and  a  smell- 
ing-bottle, but  neither  was  of  any  avail  to  him 
now.  Agreeably  to  a  previous  request,  I  called 
the  faithful  Karens,  who  loved  him  so  much, 
and  whom  he  had  loved  unto  death,  to  come 
and  watch  his  last  gentle  breathings,  for  there 
was  no  struggle. 


DEATH    IN    THE    JUNGLE. 


"  Never,  my  dear  parents,  did  one  of  our 
poor  fallen  race  have  less  to  contend  with,  in 
the  last  enemy.  Little  George  was  brought  to 
see  his  dying  father,  but  he  was  too  young  to 
know  there  was  cause  for  grief.  When  Sarah 
died,  her  father  said  to  George,  'Poor  little 
boy,  you  will  not  know  to-morrow  what  you 
have  lost  to-day.'  A  deep  pang  rent  my  bo- 
som at  the  recollection  of  this,  and  a  still 
deeper  one  succeeded  when  the  thought  struck 
me,  that  though  my  little  boy  may  not  know 
to-morrow  what  he  has  lost  to-day,  yet  when 
years  have  rolled  by,  and  he  shall  have  felt  the 
unkindness  of  a  deceitful,  selfish  world,  he  will 
know. 

"  Mr.  Mason  wept,  and  the  sorrowing  Ka- 
rens knelt  down  in  prayer  to  God — that  God, 
of  whom  their  expiring  teacher  had  taught 
them — that  God,  into  whose  presence  the 
emancipated  spirit  was  just  entering — that 
God  with  whom  they  hope  and  expect  to  be 
happy  forever.  My  own  feelings  I  will  not 
attempt  to  describe.  You  may  have  some 
faint  idea  of  them,  when  you  recollect  what  he 
was  to  me,  how  tenderly  I  loved  him,  and,  at 
the  same  time,  bear  in  mind  the  precious 
promises  to  the  afflicted. 

"  We  came  in  silence  down  the  river,  and 


140  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.   JUDSON. 

lauded  about  three  miles  from  our  house. 
The  Karens  placed  his  precious  remains  on 
his  little  bed,  and  with  feelings  which  you  can 
better  imagine  than  I  describe,  we  proceeded 
homewards.  The  mournful  intelligence  had 
reached  town  before  us,  and  we  were  soon 
met  by  Moung  Ing,  the  Burman  preacher. 
At  the  sight  of  us,  he  burst  into  a  flood  of 
tears.  Next,  we  met  the  two  native  Christian 
sisters,  who  lived  with  us.  But  the  moment 
of  most  bitter  anguish  was  yet  to  come  on  our 
arrival  at  the  house.  They  took  him  into  the 
sleeping  room,  and  when  I  uncovered  his  face, 
for  a  few  moments,  nothing  was  heard  but  re- 
iterated sobs.  He  had  not  altered — the  same 
sweet  smile,  with  which  he  was  wont  to  wel- 
come me,  sat  on  his  countenance.  His  eyes  had 
opened  in  bringing  him,  and  all  present  seemed 
expecting  to  hear  his  voice ;  when  the  thought, 
that  it  was  silent  forever,  rushed  upon  us,  and 
filled  us  with  anguish  sudden  and  unutterable. 
There  were  the  Burman  Christians,  who  had 
listened  so  long,  with  edification  and  delight, 
to  his  preaching — there  were  the  Karens,  who 
looked  to  him  as  their  guide,  their  earthly  all 
— there  were  the  scholars  whom  he  had  taught 
the  way  to  heaven,  and  the  Christian  sisters, 


DEATH    IN    THE    JUNGLE.  141 

whose  privilege  it  had  been  to  wash,  as  it  were, 
his  feet. 

"  Early  next  morning,  his  funeral  was  at- 
tended, and  all  the  Europeans  in  the  place, 
with  many  natives,  were  present.  It  may  be 
some  consolation  to  you  to  know  that  every- 
thing was  performed  in  as  decent  a  manner, 
as  if  he  had  been  buried  in  our  own  dear  na- 
tive land.  By  his  own  request,  he  was  interred 
on  the  south  side  of  our  darling  first-born.  It 
is  a  pleasant  circumstance  to  me,  that  they 
sleep  side  by  side.  But  it  is  infinitely  more 
consoling  to  think,  that  their  glorified  spirits 
have  met  in  that  blissful  world,  where  sin  and 
death  never  enter,  and  sorrow  is  unknown. 

"  Praying  that  we  may  be  abundantly  pre- 
pared to  enter  into  our  glorious  rest,  I  remain, 
my  dear  parents,  your  deeply  afflicted,  but 
most  affectionate  child, 

SARAH  H.  BOARDMAN." 

And  so  the  sorrowing,  rejoicing  mourner  was 
left  alone.  Alone  1  No,  there  was  the  smiling, 
fatherless  boy,  who  could  not  know  his  loss ; 
there  were  the  kind,  affectionate  strangers, 
whose  pitying  lips  dropped  with  consolation, 
but  whose  hearts,  like  her  own  a  few  years 
previous,  were  yet  unchastened  by  affliction  ; 


142  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

there  were  the  weeping  Christians,  like  un- 
taught children,  clamorous  in  their  grief;  but, 
above  all,  there  was  He,  the  Holy  One,  who, 
in  wisdom  and  in  love,  had  dealt  the  terrible 
blow.  Oh,  no  !  the  bereaved  mourner  was  not 
alone ;  for  God  was  there,  and  her  hushed, 
subdued  heart  felt  his  presence. 

"  Death  now  seems  near  to  me,  and  Heaven 
dearer,"  she  says,  in  a  letter  to  a  friend,  "  than 
before  I  was  afflicted ;  and  I  do  feel  that  my 
heart  is  more  set  on  things  above  than  it  for- 
merly was.  Oh  !  I  see  and  feel  that  my  afflic- 
tions are  of  precisely  the  kind  my  soul  needed. 
'  Though  He  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  Him.' 
*  *  *  I  receive  from  my  dear  friends,  the 
Masons,  every  possible  kindness.  But  alas ! 
the  hours  of  loneliness  and  bitter  weeping  that 
I  endure,  are  known  only  to  God.  But  still 
Jesus  has  sweetened  the  cup,  and  I  would  not 
that  it  should  have  passed  my  lip." 

Again  she  says,  administering  consolation 
in  her  own  generous,  thoughtful  way,  to  those 
who  she  knew  would  grieve  for  her  on  the 
other  side  of  the  world  :  "  It  is  true  I  nave 
lost  my  guide,  my  earthly  all ;  but,  my  dear 
parents,  is  not  God  infinitely  better  to  us  than 
the  nearest  and  dearest  of  earthly  friends  ? 
I  can  appeal  to  you  both  with  confidence,  for 


DEATH    IN    THE   JUNGLE.  143 

you  know  how  sweet  it  is  to  draw  nigh  to  God. 
I  trust  you  have  both,  many  times  been  so  near 
heaven,  while  engaged  in  prayer,  that  you  have 
forgotten  all  your  earthly  sorrows.  And  this, 
my  beloved  parents,  is  sometimes  the  case  with 
me  even  now,  when  I  am  suffering  under  the 
greatest  possible  affliction  that  my  Heavenly 
Father  could  have  allotted  me.  The  sweet 
promises  of  God  are  precious  to  my  soul ;  and 
I  look  forward  with  joy  to  the  blissful  moment, 
when  I  shall  go  to  be  for  ever  united  with  my 
dear  husband  and  children,  in  a  world  where 
there  is  no  sorrow  nor  weeping." 

The  following  poem  was  written  some  time 
after,  at  Yalah,  a  romantic  place  on  the  sea- 
shore, which  she  had  often  visited  with  her 
husband.  It  was  her  favorite  scene ;  and  its 
principal  features,  to  which  she  alludes  in  the 
verses,  have  been  more  distinctly  denned  in  a 
pencil  sketch,  taken  during  one  of  these 
visits. 
*'  The  moon  throws  her  bright  and  glistening  ray 

On  ocean's  heaving  breast  ; 
And  with  her  light  is  the  landscape  gay, — 

But  to  me,  'tis  in  sable  dressed. 

For  the  eye  is  dim,  and  the  voice  is  hushed, 

That  with  me  admired  the  scene  ; 
And  present  enjoyments  all  are  crushed, 

'Neath  the  tread  of  those  that  have  been. 


144  MEMOIR   OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

The  ocean  rolls  on  in  sullen  pride, 

As  for  ages  past  he  has  done  ; 
But  my  guide  over  life's  more  fearful  tide, 

The  friend  of  my  youth,  is  gone. 

The  tree,  to  which  the  frail  creeper  clung, 

Still  lifts  its  stately  head  ; 
But  he,  on  whom  my  spirit  hung, 

Is  sleeping  with  the  dead. 

The  evening  star  sheds  her  silvery  light, 
Bright  orbs  in  their  beauty  roll ; 

But  to  me  'tis  a  dark  and  dreary  night, 
For  quenched  is  the  star  of  nay  soul. 

'Tis  long  since  they  bore  thee  away  from  me, 
And  laid  thee  low  in  the  grave  ; 

But  could  I  forget  thee,  my  soul  would  be, 
Like  the  rock  that  repels  the  wave. 


And  oh,  thou  departed  and  sainted  one, 

In  thy  robes  of  glory  clad  ; 
Dost  thou  e'er,  from  thy  bright  abode,  look  down, 

On  me  deserted  and  sad  ? 


Oh,  thine  is  indeed  a  bright  abode  ! 

And  brilliant  thy  diadem — 
The  crown  of  life  from  the  hand  of  God, 

Adorned  with  many  a  gem. 


DEATH    IN    THE    JUNGLE.  145 

For  thou  didst  bear  the  gospel  light 

To  the  heathen  world  afar  ; 
And  the  darkness  of  their  moral  night 

Gave  way  to  the  Morning  Star. 

The  youths  of  China  learned  of  thee 

To  seek  a  Saviour's  face  ; 
And  the  ruder  Burman  at  thy  knee 

Heard  the  tale  of  sovereign  grace. 

And  who  are  the  crowds  with  visage  meek, 
That  come  from  the  mountains  high, 

The  tear  of  penitence  warm  on  each  cheek, 
And  hope  in  every  eye  ? 

There  is  manhood,  and  age  with  hoary  head, 
And  the  child,  scarce  touched  with  guile, 

And  the  forest-maid,  from  whose  native  shade, 
Nor  love  nor  pleasure  could  wile. 

The  Karens,  for  whom  thy  parting  breath 

Went  forth  in  fervent  prayer, 
Who  knelt  beside  thy  bed  of  death, 

Are  thy  crown  of  gladness  there. 

A  sound,  as  from  some  heavenly  shrine, 

Comes  sweetly  floating  near, 
And  accents  mild  and  soft  like  thine, 

Fall  gently  on  my  ear. 


146  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

'  Dry,  dry  thy  tears,  for  sweet  my  rest, 

From  sin  and  sorrow  free ; 
And  our  cherub  babes,  on  an  angel's  breast, 

Lean  till  they  welcome  thee. 

« And  for  thee  and  thy  last  remaining  one, 
Are  seats  in  this  bright  abode, 

And  a  robe  of  light,  and  a  glorious  crown, 
Prepared  by  our  Saviour  God.'  " 


.  ®  HA  PIT  IS  IB 


THE  FEMALE  MISSIONARY. 

"  Toiling — rejoicing — sorrowing," 
The  Christian  "  onward  goes  ; 

Each  morning  sees  some  task  "begin, 
Each  evening  sees  it  close  ; 

Something  attempted,  something  done. 
Has  earned  a  night's  repose." 

Longfellow. 

HAVE  been  trying,"  said  the 
lone  widow,  in  a  note  to  a  mis- 
sionary friend,  "  with  fasting, 
and  prayers,  and  tears,  to  inquire  what  my 
duty  is,  about  going  home  soon  with  little 
George.  I  feel  conscious  of  the  weakness  of 
my  own  judgment ;  and  am  about  writing  To 
Maulmain,  Rangoon,  and  Mergui,  to  ask  the 
advice  of  my  brethren  and  sisters."  But  before 
these  letters  had  been  despatched,  she  received 
the  following,  from  a  missionary,  then  in  Ran- 
goon— one  who  knew  from  his  own  bitter  experi- 
ence, all  the  depths  of  her  sufferings,  and  all 
13* 


148  MEMOIR    OF    SARAII    B.   JUDSON. 

the  points  which  the  finger  of  sympathy  might 
dare  to  touch.  After  saying,  "  I  can  only 
advise  you  to  take  the  cup  with  both  hands, 
and  sit  down  quietly  to  the  bitter  repast,  which 
God  has  appointed  for  your  sanctification ;" — 
"  You  will  soon  learn  there  is  sweetness  at  the 
bottom ;" — "  You  will  find  heaven  coming 
near  to  you ;  and  familiarity  with  your  hus- 
band's voice  will  be  a  connecting  link,  drawing 
you  almost  within  the  sphere  of  celestial 
music,"  &c.,  &.c.  The  writer  adds,  "  As  to 
little  Georgie,  who  has  now  no  earthly  father 
to  care  for  him — you  cannot,  of  course,  part 
with  him  at  present.  But  if  you  should  wish 
to  send  him  home,  I  pledge  myself  to  use  what 
little  influence  I  have,  in  procuring  for  him  all 
those  advantages  of  education,  which  your 
fondest  wishes  can  desire.  Or,  if  you  should 
be  prematurely  taken  away,  and  should  conde- 
scend on  your  dying  bed,  to  commit  him  to 
me,  by  the  briefest  line  or  verbal  message,  I 
hereby  pledge  my  fidelity,  to  receive  and  treat 
him  as  my  own  son,  to  send  him  home  in  the 
best  time  and  way,  to  provide  for  his  educa- 
tion, and  to  watch  over  him  as  long  as  I  live." 
Then  follow  suggestions  for  her  own  personal 
comfort ;  and  all  this,  coming  as  it  did  long 
before  American  friends  could  learn  anything 


THE    FEMALE    MISSIONARY.  149 

of  her  afflictions,  was  a  source  of  inexpressible 
relief.  And  so,  by  the  time  the  invitation  to 
return  to  the  happy  home  of  her  childhood 
reached  her,  she  was  prepared  to  give  a  deci- 
sive answer. 

"  When  I  first  stood  by  the  grave  of  my 
husband,  I  thought  that  I  must  go  home  with 
George.  But  these  poor,  inquiring,  and  Chris- 
tian Karens,  and  the  school-boys,  and  the 
Burmese  Christians,  would  then  be  left  without 
any  one  to  instruct  them  ;  and  the  poor,  stupid 
Tavoyans  would  go  on  in  the  road  to  death, 
with  no  one  to  warn  them  of  their  danger. 
How  then,  oh,  how  can  I  go  ?  We  shall  not 
be  separated  long.  A  few  more  years,  and  we 
shall  all  meet  in  yonder  blissful  world,  whither 
those  we  love  have  gone  before  us."  "  I  feel 
thankful  that  I  was  allowed  to  come  to  this 
heathen  land.  Oh,  it  is  a  precious  privilege 
to  tell  idolaters  of  the  Gospel ;  and  when  we 
see  them  disposed  to  love  the  Saviour,  we  for- 
get all  our  privations  and  dangers.  My  be- 
loved husband  wore  out  his  life  in  this  glorious 
cause  ;  and  that  remembrance  makes  me  more 
than  ever  attached  to  the  work,  and  the  people 
for  whose  salvation  he  laboured  till  death." 

And  in  the  midst  of  her  sorrow,  suffering, 
and  loneliness,  the  fond  mother's  heart  could 


150  MEMOIR    OP    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

devise  no  higher  wish  for  the  child  of  her  love, 
her  "  only  one,"  as  she  often  touchingly  names 
little  George,  than  that  "the  ' dew  of  his 
youth'  might  be  consecrated  to  the  living  God, 
and  that,  at  some  future  day,  he  might  stand 
in  his  father's  place,  and  preach  among  the 
heathen  the  unsearchable  riches  of  Christ." 
That  he  might  devote  his  young  life  to  those 
who  jeered  the  parent,  when  disease  had  shorn 
him  of  his  strength,  and  refused  the  shelter  of 
a  roof  to  his  dying  head  !  Surely,  the  noblest 
Roman  matron  could  never  have  aspired  to 
heroism  like  this.  She  taught  her  son  to  die 
stoically,  with  the  stain  of  his  enemy's  blood 
upon  his  sword,  and  went  through  life  without 
conceiving  the  possibility  of  a  higher  flight. 

For  three  years  previous  to  the  death  of  her 
husband,  Mrs.  Boardman  had  been  almost  con- 
stantly ill ;  and  this,  together  with  the  illness 
of  her  family,  by  which  her  cares  were  greatly 
increased,  prevented  her  engaging  but  slightly 
in  direct  missionary  labour.  Beside,  the  station 
had  been  twice  broken  up,  and  all  operations 
suspended ;  and  this  was  ruinous  to  the  pros- 
pects of  the  few  schools  she  had  succeeded  in 
establishing.  Sometimes  she  conversed  a  little 
with  visitors ;  but  her  husband  was  better 
qualified  for  the  task  ;  and  he  was  free  from 


THE    FEMALE    MISSIONARY.  151 

the  small  necessary  cares,  which,  in  Burmah, 
triple  the  weight  of  a  woman's  usual  domestic 
duties.  She  had  made  an  effort  to  establish 
day-schools ;  and  these  had,  at  times,  been 
prosperous,  though  at  other  times  they  were 
entirely  broken  up.  She  had  also  kept  the 
boys'  boarding-school  in  existence — bare  ex- 
istence; for,  at  the  time  of  her  husband's 
death,  it  was  very  small  indeed.  But  when 
she  was  left  alone,  with  the  wild,  simple  moun- 
taineers flocking  about  her,  and  looking  to 
her  lips  for  the  words  which  were  to  renovate 
their  natures ;  when  she  turned  to  the  Tavoy- 
ans,  and  considered  that  even  among  them, 
impudent  and  reckless  as  they  were  in  their 
ignorance,  might  lie,  unrecognized,  some  beau- 
tiful stone,  to  be  cut  and  polished  for  the 
temple  of  the  Eternal — when  she  looked  about 
her,  and  thought  of  all  these  things,  she  began, 
more  than  ever,  to  feel  and 

"  Know  how  sublime  a  thing  it  is, 
To  suffer  and  be  strong." 

Mrs.  Chaplin,  in  one  of  her  beautiful  letters, 
after  speaking  of  the  "triumphal  ascension" 
of  the  sainted  husband,  adds,  "  I  rejoice  that 
as  he  went  up,  his  mantle  descended  upon  you, 


152  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

his  beloved  one — and  that  your  missionary 
zeal  was  kindled  at  this  altar,  and  that  more 
than  ever  before,  it  is  in  your  heart  to  benefit 
the  heathen."  In  truth,  such  a  mantle,  so 
heavy  with  important  duties,  seldom  weighs 
upon  the  shoulders  of  a  woman ;  and  very  sel- 
dom is  it  worn  with  such  a  modest,  uncon- 
scious grace.  So  light  was  her  step,  that  even 
those  who  looked  upon  her  daily,  scarce  sus- 
pected that  she  was  treading  in  the  foot-prints 
of  the  Christian  warriour ;  the  sword  of  truth 
was  so  concealed  by  the  flowers  of  gentleness, 
and  by  gospel  balms,  that  when  it  made  its 
presence  felt  none  knew  the  hand  that  wielded 
it ;  and  so  unassuming  were  her"  feminine 
adornments,  and  worn  with  such  sweet  simpli- 
city, that  the  "  armour  of  proof"  beneath,  was 
completely  hidden  in  their  graceful  folds.  But 
the  light  foot  was  firm  and  daring ;  the  armour 
was  never  thrown  aside ;  and  the  small  spirit- 
sword  had  a  keen,  resistless  point. 

To  a  friend  she  says,  "  Every  moment  of 
my  time  is  occupied,  from  sunrise  till  ten 
o'clock  in  the  evening.  And  now,  although  I 
would  fain  write  you  a  long  letter,  I  scarce 
know  how  to  find  time  for  a  single  line.  It  is 
late  bed-time,  and  I  am  surrounded  by  five 
Karen  women,  three  of  whom  arrived  this 


THE    FEMALE    MISSIONARY.  153 

afternoon  from  the  jungle,  after  having  been 
separated  from  us  nearly  five  months  by  the 
heavy  rains.  The  Karens  are  beginning  to 
come  to  us  in  companies ;  and  with  them,  and 
our  scholars  in  the  town,  and  the  care  of  my 
darling  boy,  you  will  scarce  think  that  I  have 
much  leisure  for  letter-writing." 

In  the  same  letter,  she  announces  the  death 
of  several  Christians,  one  of  them  a  school- 
master among  the  Karen  mountains.  An  ex- 
tract would  be  wholly  irrelevant,  but,  as  exhib- 
iting the  nature  of  the  cords  which  bound  her 
so  strongly  to  this  land  of  darkness,  and  the 
near  connexion  which  her  employment  had 
with  Heaven,  it  will  be  pardoned.  "  Thah- 
ourig,"  she  says,  "  continued  in  his  school  till 
two  days  before  his  death,  although  he  had 
been  for  a  long  time  very  ill.  He  felt,  then, 
that  he  must  die,  and  said  to  his  scholars,  '  I 
can  do  no  more — God  is  calling  me  away  from 
you — I  go  into  His  presence — be  not  dismay- 
ed.' He  was  then  carried  to  the  house  of  his 
father,  a  few  miles  distant,  and  there  he  con- 
tinued exhorting  and  praying,  to  the  very  last 
moment.  His  widow,  who  is  not  yet  fifteen, 
is  one  of  the  loveliest  of  our  '  desert  blossoms.' 
She  and  her  younger  sister,  who  is  also  a  dis- 


154  MEMOIR   OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

ciple,  have  attended  Ko  Thah-Byoo's  school 
since  the  death  of  Thah-oung." 

A  few  extracts  from  a  couple  of  journal-like 
letters,  published  in  the  Missionary  Magazine, 
for  1832,  will  give  a  still  better  idea  of  her 
employments  and  interests. 

"March,  1831. — One  of  our  best  Karen 
brethren  came  to  see  us,  and  through  him,  we 
heard  that  all  the  disciples  were  well ;  that 
they  were  living  in  love  with  one  another,  in 
the  enjoyment  of  religion,  and  had  nothing  to 
distress  them  but  the  death  of  their  beloved 
teacher.  Poor  Moung-Quay  was  obliged  to 
turn  away  his  face  to  weep  several  times,  while 
answering  my  inquiries.  Oh,  how  they  feel 
the  stroke  that  has  fallen  upon  them  !  And 
well  they  may,  for  he  was  to  them  a  father  and 
a  guide. 

"  After  Mr.  Mason  left,  Mah  Doke  (the 
only  one  of  the  female  converts  from  Rangoon 
in  these  provinces)  came  in  to  pray  with  me. 
The  tears  rolled  down  Mah  Men's  cheeks  as 
she  said,  '  I  have  been  telling  Moung  Shway- 
bwen,  that  now  you  would  be  more  distressed 
than  ever,  and  he  sent  me  to  speak  soothing 
words.'  We  all  knelt  down,  and  it  was  one  of 
the  pleasantest  prayer-meetings  I  ever  had." 

"A  congregation  to-day  of  nearly  thirty  lis- 


<*** 


THE    FEMALE    MISSIONARY.  155 

teners.  This  morning,  I  was  pleased  with  the 
simplicity  of  one  of  the  Karen  women.  She 
asked  me  if  I  had  prayed,  not  in  a  way  to  im- 
ply a  doubt  of  my  habitual  practice  of  this 
duty,  but  in  the  same  simple  manner  that  she 
would  ask  if  I  had  eaten  breakfast.  After  the 
morning  service,  the  female  Christians  met  in 
my  room  for  prayer,  and  all  took  a  part — some 
in  Burman,  and  some  in  Karen.  We  were 
much  disturbed  by  the  native  music  and  dan- 
cing at  a  feast,  in  sight  of  the  house.  Though 
it  was  a  very  splendid  entertainment,  under  an 
awning,  out  of  doors,  not  one  of  our  scholars 
or  people  showed  the  least  disposition  to  go, 
excepting  a  little  Tavoy  girl,  who  had  been 
with  me  only  three  days. 

"  While  Moung  Ing  was  preaching,  Sek- 
kike,  one  of  the  little  Chinese  disciples,  re- 
turned from  a  visit  of  two  or  three  weeks,  at 
his  grandmother's.  He  took  his  seat  with  the 
hearers,  and  the  dear  child  could  not  help 
laughing  with  real  delight,  at  finding  himself 
once  more  in  the  midst  of  the  disciples,  and 
under  the  sound  of  the  gospel.  And  I  confess, 
when  I  saw  the  joy  beaming  from  his  coun- 
tenance, I  had  as  little  command  over  my 
feelings. 

"  December  31. — The  Church  at  present 
14 


156  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

numbers  one  hundred  and  ten  members. 
They  are  mostly  Karens,  living  at  a  great 
distance ;  and,  by  their  frequent  visits  to  us, 
over  almost  impassable  mountains  and  through 
deserts,  the  haunt  of  the  tiger,  they  evince  a 
love  for  the  gospel  seldom  surpassed.  What 
would  the  Christians  in  New-England  think  of 
travelling  forty  or  fifty  miles  on  foot,  to  hear 
a  sermon,  and  beg  a  Christian  book?  A  Ka- 
ren woman,  who  had  been  living  with  us  seve- 
ral months,  told  me,  that  when  she  came,  the 
water  was  so  deep  she  was  obliged  to  wait 
until  the  men  could  fell  trees  to  cross  on ;  and 
sometimes  she  forded  the  streams  herself, 
when  the  water  reached  her  chin.  She  said 
she  feared  alligators,  more  than  anything  else." 
From  some  of  the  extracts  just  made,  show- 
ing the  sympathetic  disposition  of  the  native 
Christians,  and  Mrs.  Boardman's  affection  for 
them,  the  truth  of  some  remarks  on  the  hea- 
then character,  a  few  chapters  back,  may  be 
called  in  question.  But  perhaps  it  will  require 
no  more  than  a  sentence  from  her  to  show, 
that  it  was  only  as  Christians  that  they  were 
companionable  and  worthy  of  affection.  "  Sure- 
ly," she  says  in  a  note  to  Mrs.  Mason,  "  it  re- 
quires the  patience  of  a  Job,  and  the  wisdom 
of  a  Solomon,  to  get  on  with  this  people,  much 


THE    FEMALE    MISSIONARY.  157 

as  I  love  them,  and  good  as  I  think  they  are." 
Grace  does  not  give  those,  who  have  been  all 
their  lives  shackled  in  heart  and  soul,  groping 
in  darkness  more  than  Egyptian,  at  once,  the 
stature  of  a  perfect  man ;  and  there  can  be  no 
more  cruel  injustice,  than  stretching  the  infant 
disciple  on  such  a  Procrustean  bed. 

In  the  journal  from  which  the  above  extracts 
are  made,  Mrs.  Boardman  thus  mentions  the 
burning  of  a  Boodhist  priest.  "  The  whole 
town,  male  and  female,  from  the  infant  to  the 
gray-headed,  are  engaged  in  the  ceremonies 
attendant  upon  the  burning  of  a  priest,  who 
died  several  months  ago.  •  Seven  large  coffins, 
perhaps  four  feet  in  height,  were  drawn,  on  as 
many  cars,  adorned  with  paintings  of  men  and 
monsters,  as  large  as  life,  gilded  images,  look- 
ing-glasses, fancy-paper,  and  a  variety  of  other 
showy  trappings,  with  a  large  highly  orna- 
mented umbrella  over  each.  The  body  was 
wrapped  in  a  gold  cloth,  and  the  face  covered 
with  gold  leaf.  It  was  removed  from  one  coffin 
to  another  in  sight  of  our  house,  and  in  a  way 
that  quite  shocked  me.  Eight  men  took  it  on 
their  shoulders,  and  danced  with  it  in  that 
position,  accompanied  by  the  shouts  of  the 
multitude,  and  the  deafening  sound  of  na- 
tive drums,  torn  toms,  &c.  One  of  the  little 


158  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

disciples  said,  '  see,  mama,  it  is  as  our  Scrip- 
tures say,  the  road  to  hell  is  very  broad  and 
many  walk  in  it !'  He  was  formerly  very  fond 
of  such  heathen  show." 

"  Jan.  19,  1832. — On  our  removal  to  Maul- 
main  in  1830,  our  day-schools  in  Tavoy  were 
entirely  broken  up;  and  it  was  not  till  last 
April,  that  I  found  myself  sufficiently  at  leisure 
to  attempt  anything  in  that  way  again.  I  then 
opened  a  school,  with  five  scholars,  under  the 
care  of  a  respectable  and  intelligent  Tavoy 
woman.  We  met  with  much  encouragement, 
so  that  other  schools  have 'been  since  estab- 
lished, and  our  number  of  day-scholars  is  now 
about  eighty.  These,  with  the  boarding- 
schools,  two  village  schools,  and  about  fifty 
persons  who  learn  during  the  rainy  season,  in 
the  Karen  jungle,  make  upwards  of  one  hun- 
dred and  seventy  under  our  instruction.  The 
scholars  in  the  jungle  cannot  of  course  visit 
us  often ;  but  a  great  many  have  come  to  be 
examined  in  their  lessons,  and  we  are  surprised 
and  delighted  at  the  progress  they  have  made." 

Mrs.  Boardman  afterwards  established  more 
village-schools  ;  but  she  was  finally  obliged  to 
discontinue  them,  finding  herself,  especially 
during  the  rains,  unable  to  exercise  the  neces- 
sary supervision  over  both  teachers  and  pupils. 


THE    FEMALE    MISSIONARY.  159 

She  says,  "  The  superintendence  of  the  food 
and  clothing  of  both  the  boarding-schools,  to- 
gether with  the  care  of  five  day-schools,  under 
native  teachers,  devolves  wholly  on  me.  My 
day  schools  are  growing  every  week  more  and 
more  interesting.  We  cannot,  it  is  true,  ex- 
pect to  see  among  them  such  progress,  espe- 
cially in  Christianity,  as  our  boarders  make ; 
but  they  are  constantly  gaining  religious  know- 
ledge, and  will  grow  up  with  comparatively 
correct  ideas.  They,  with  their  teachers,  at- 
tend worship  regularly  on  Lord's-day.  The 
day-schools  are  entirely  supported,  at  present, 
by  the  Honourable  Company's  allowance  ;  and 
the  civil  commissioner,  Mr.  Maingy,  appears 
much  interested  in  their  success." 

That  Mrs.  Boardman  was  conducting  Gov- 
ernment-schools, on  the  plan  she  mentions, 
was  owing — not  to  her  superiour  tact,  but  her 
quiet,  unassuming  manner ;  which,  creating 
no  alarm  by  ostentatious  usefulness,  gave  her 
almost  unbounded  power,  wherever  she  chose 
to  exercise  it.  Although  she  was  not  aware  of 
the  fact,  it  was  at  that  time  far  from  the  policy 
of  the  Bengal  government  to  allow  the  intro- 
duction of  Christianity  into  their  schools. 
There  is  a  letter,  addressed  to  the  commis- 
sioner on  the  subject,  a  year  after  our  present 
14* 


160  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

date,    which,   with    his   answer,   will   explain 
itself: 

"  Tavoy,  Aug.  24,  1833. 
"  My  Dear  §ir, 

"  Mr.  Mason  has  handed  me  for  perusal,  the 
extract  from  your  letter  to  Government,  which 
you  kindly  sent  him.  I  apprehend  I  have 
hitherto  had  wrong  impressions,  in  reference 
to  the  ground  on  which  the  Honourable  Com- 
pany patronize  schools  in  their  territories; 
and  I  hope  you  will  allow  me  to  say,  that  it 
would  not  accord  with  my  feelings  and  senti- 
ments, to  banish  religious  instruction  from  the 
schools  under  my  care.  I  think  it  desirable 
for  the  rising  generation  of  this  Province,  to 
become  acquainted  with  useful  science ;  and 
the  male  part  of  the  population,  with  the  Eng- 
lish language.  But  it  is  infinitely  more  im- 
portant that  they  receive  into  their  hearts  our 
holy  religion,  which  is  the  source  of  so  much 
happiness  in  this  state,  and  imparts  the  hope 
of  a  glorious  immortality  in  the  world  to  come. 
Parents  and  guardians  must  know,  that  there 
is  more  or  less  danger  of  their  children  desert- 
ing the  faith  of  their  ancestors,  if  placed 
under  the  care  of  a  Foreign  Missionary ;  and 
the  example  of  some  of  the  pupils  is  calculated 


THE    FEMALE    MISSIONARY.  161 

to  increase  such  apprehensions.  Mr.  Board- 
man  baptized  into  the  Christian  religion  sev- 
eral of  his  scholars.  One  of  the  number  is 
now  a  devoted  preacher  ;  and  notwithstanding 
the  decease  of  their  beloved  and  revered 
teacher,  they  all,  with  one  unhappy  exception, 
remain  firm  in  the  Christian  faith. 

"  The  success  of  the  Hindoo  College,  where 
religious  instruction  was  interdicted,  may  per- 
haps be  urged  in  favour  of  pursuing  a  similar 
course  in  schools  here.  But  it  strikes  me, 
that  the  case  is  different  here,  even  admitting 
their  course  to  be  right.  The  overthrow  of  a 
system  so  replete  with  cruel  and  impure  rites, 
as  the  Hindoo,  or  so  degrading  as  the  Maho- 
metan, might  be  matter  of  joy,  though  no 
better  religion  were  introduced  in  its  stead. 
But  the  Burman  system  of  morality  is  supe- 
riour  to  that  of  the  nations  around  them,  and 
to  the  heathen  of  ancient  times,  and  is  surpas- 
sed only  by  the  divine  precepts  of  our  blessed 
Saviour.  Like  all  other  merely  human  institu- 
tions, it  is  destitute  of  saving  power ;  but  its 
influence  on  the  people,  so  far  as  it  is  felt,  is 
salutary,  and  their  moral  character  will,  I 
should  think,  bear  a  comparison  with  that  of 
any  heathen  nation  in  the  world.  The  person 


162  MEMOIR   OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

who  should  spend  his  days  in  teaching  them 
mere  human  science,  (though  he  might  under- 
mine their  false  tenets,)  by  neglecting  to  set 
before  them  brighter  hopes  and  purer  princi- 
ples, would,  I  imagine,  live  to  very  little  pur- 
pose. For  myself,  sure  I  am,  I  should  at  last 
suffer  the  overwhelming  conviction  of  having 
laboured  in  vain. 

"  With  this  view  of  things,  you  will  not, 
my  dear  sir,  be  surprised  at  my  saying,  it  is 
impossible  for  me  to  pursue  a  course  so  utterly 
repugnant  to  my  feelings,  and  so  contrary  to 
my  judgment,  as  to  banish  religious  instruction 
from  the  schools  in  my  charge.  It  is  what  I 
am  confident  you  yourself  would  not  wish; 
but  I  infer  from  a  remark  in  your  letter  that 
such  are  the  terms  on  which  Government 
affords  patronage.  It  would  be  wrong  to  de- 
ceive the  patrons  of  the  schools;  and  if  my 
supposition  is  correct,  I  can  do  no  otherwise 
than  request,  that  the  monthly  allowance  be 
withdrawn.  It  will  assist  in  establishing  schools 
at  Maulmain,  on  a  plan  more  consonant  with 
the  wishes  of  Government  than  mine  has  ever 
been.  Meanwhile,  I  trust,  I  shall  be  able  to 
represent  the  claims  of  my  pupils  in  such  a 
manner,  as  to  obtain  support  and  countenance 


THE    FEMALE    MISSIONARY.  163 

from  those,  who  would  wish  the  children  to  be 
taught  the  principles  of  the  Christian  faith. 
"  Allow  me,  my  dear  sir,  to  subscribe 
myself, 

Yours,  most  respectfully, 
SARAH  H.  BOARDMAN." 

"  My  Dear  Madam, 

"  I  cannot  do  otherwise  than  honour  and  re- 
spect the  sentiments  conveyed  in  your  letter, 
now  received.  You  will,  I  hope,  give  me 
credit  for  sincerity,  when  I  assure  you,  that  in 
alluding  to  the  system  of  instruction  pursued 
by  you,  it  has  ever  been  a  source  of  pride  to 
me,  to  point  out  the  quiet  way,  in  which  your 
scholars  have  been  made  acquainted  with  the 
Christian  religion.  My  own  Government  in 
no  way  proscribes  the  teaching  of  Christianity. 
The  observations  in  my  official  letter  are  in- 
tended to  support  what  I  have  before  brought 
to  the  notice  of  Government,  that  all  are  re- 
ceived, who  present  themselves  for  instruction 
at  your  schools,  without  any  stipulation  as  to 
their  becoming  members  of  the  Christian 
faith. 

I  cannot  express  to  you  how  much  your  let- 
ter has  distressed  me.  It  has  been  a  subject 
of  consideration  with  me,  for  some  months 


164  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

past,  how  I  could  best  succeed  in  establishing 
a  college  here,  the  scholars  of  which  were  to 
have  been  instructed  on  the  same  system, 
which  you  have  so  successfully  pursued.  Be- 
lieve me, 

"  Yours  very  faithfully, 

"A.  D.  MAINGY." 
"  Saturday." 

Mrs.  Boardman's  firmness,  on  this  occasion, 
was  of  decided  advantage  to  her ;  for  an  ap- 
propriation was  afterwards  obtained  from  Gov- 
ernment for  schools  throughout  the  Provinces, 
"  to  be  conducted  on  the  plan  of  Mrs.  Board- 
man's schools,  at  Tavoy."  The  plan  was  not 
carried  out  in  all  respects ;  for  the  propagation 
of  Christianity  in  them  was  soon  prohibited ; 
but  she  was  always  allowed  to  teach  as  her 
own  conscience  dictated. 

Immediately  after  the  death  of  her  husband, 
Mrs.  Boardman  commenced  the  study  of  the 
Karen ;  but  her  heavy  duties  prevented  her 
from  making  much  progress,  and  it  was  at 
length  abandoned.  She  was  well  read  in  the 
Burmese,  and  was  exceedingly  fond  of  it. 
The  following  letter,  addressed  to  the  Trans- 
lator of  the  Burmese  Scriptures,  will  serve  to 
give  some  idea  of  her  knowledge  of  the  Ian- 


THE    FEMALE    MISSIONARY.  165 

guage,  and  also  of  the  pleasure  she  found  in 
the  study  of  the  Bible  in  that  tongue. 

"  Tavoy,  Feb.  17th,  1834. 
"  My  Dear  Brother, 

"  The  translation  of  the  Bible  into  Burmese 
is  an  event,  to  which  thousands  have  looked 
forward  with  joyful  anticipation,  and  for  which, 
thousands  now  perishing  in  their  sins,  should 
fall  on  their  knees  in  thanksgiving  to  God,  and 
through  which,  thousands  yet  unborn  will 
praise  him  for  ever  and  ever. 

"  My  dear  brother,  I  dare  not  pass  enco- 
miums upon  a  fellow-mortal  in  speaking  of  the 
Word  of  God ;  and  if  you  think  me  guilty  of 
this  impiety  in  what  I  may  say,  bear  with  me 
yourself,  and  pray  God  to  forgive  me.  I  have, 
for  the  last  four  years,  been  in  the  daily  prac- 
tice of  reading  attentively  the  New-Testament 
in  Burmese ;  and  the  more  I  study  it,  the  bet- 
ter I  am  pleased  and  satisfied  with  the  transla- 
tion. I  am  delighted  with  the  graphic  style  of 
the  narrative  part;  and  think  many  of  the 
doctrinal  passages  are  expressed  with  a  force 
and  perspicuity  entirely  wanting  in  our  version. 
How  much  of  this  is  due  to  your  vivid  man- 
ner of  expression,  and  how  much  to  the  nature 
of  the  language,  I  do  not  know.  I  sometimes 


166  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

tell  the  Masons,  that  I  should  be  willing  to 
learn  Burmese  for  the  sake  of  being  able  to 
read  the  Scriptures  in  that  language. 

Last  Lord's-day,  while  reading  a  portion  of 
Scripture,  I  was  affected  to  tears,  and  could 
scarcely  proceed,  as  is  often  the  case,  in  read- 
ing striking  passages ;  and  the  effect  was  also 
observable  on  the  old  Tavoyan,  for  he  man- 
aged to  bring  a  great  part  of  it  into  his  prayer, 
which  immediately  followed.  My  scholars  are 
now  reading  the  Gospel  of  Luke ;  and  I  am 
reading  St.  John's  Gospel  and  Revelation 
alternately,  at  evening  worship. 
"  Yours  affectionately, 

"  SARAH  H.  BOARDMAN." 

Mrs.  Boardman's  tours  in  the  Karen  wilder- 
ness, with  little  George  borne  in  the  arms  of 
her  followers  beside  her, — through  wild,  moun- 
tain passes,  over  swollen  streams,  and  deceitful 
marshes,  and  among  the  craggy  rocks  and  tan- 
gled shrubs  of  the  jungle — if  they  could  be 
spread  out  in  detail,  would  doubtless  present 
scenes  of  thrilling  interest.  But  her  singular 
modesty  always  made  her  silent  on  a  subject, 
which  would  present  her  in  a  light  so  enter- 
prising and  adventurous.  Even  her  most  inti- 
mate friends  could  seldom  draw  from  her  any- 


THE    FEMALE    MISSIONARY.  167 

thing  on  the  subject;  and  they  knew  little 
more,  than  that  such  tours  were  made,  and 
that  the  progress  of  the  gospel  was  not  sus- 
pended among  the  Karens,  while  her  husband's 
.•successor  was  engaged  in  the  study  of  the 
language.  There  is  a  note  addressed  to  Mrs. 
Mason,  from  a  zayat  by  the  way-side,  just 
before  she  reached  the  mountains ;  and  this  is 
the  only  scrap  among  her  writings,  alluding  in 
any  way  to  those  tours.  It  was  sent  back  by 
a  party  of  men,  who  were  to  bring  her  provis- 
ions, and  contains  only  directions  about  the 
things  necessary  to  her  journey.  She  says, 
"  Perhaps  you  had  better  send  the  chair,  as  it 
is  convenient  to  be  carried  over  the  streams, 
when  they  are  deep.  You  will  laugh,  when  I 
tell  you,  that  I  have  forded  all  the  smaller 
ones." 

A  single  anecdote  is  related  by  Captain  F — , 
a  British  officer,  stationed  at  Tavoy ;  and  he 
used  to  dwell  with  much  unction  on  the  lovely 
apparition,  which  once  greeted  him  among 
these  wild,  dreary  mountains.  He  had  left 
Tavoy,  accompanied  by  a  few  followers,  I 
think  on  a  hunting  expedition,  and  had  strolled 
far  into  the  jungle.  The  heavy  rains,  which 
deluge  this  country  in  the  summer,  had  not 
yet  commenced  ;  but  they  were  near  at  hand, 
15 


168  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

and  during  the  night  had  sent  an  earnest  of 
their  coming,  which  was  anything  but  agree- 
able. All  along  his  path  hung  the  dripping 
trailers,  and  beneath  his  feet  were  the  roots  of 
vegetables,  half-bared,  and  half-imbedded  in 
mud ;  while  the  dark  clouds,  with  the  rain 
almost  incessantly  pouring  from  them,  and  the 
crazy  clusters  of  bamboo  huts,  which  appear- 
ed here  and  there  in  the  gloomy  waste,  and 
were  honoured  by  the  name  of  village,  made 
up  a  scene  of  desolation  absolutely  indescrib- 
able. A  heavy  shower  coming  up  as  he  ap- 
proached a  zayat  by  the  way-side,  and  far  from 
even  one  of  those  primitive  villages,  he  hastily 
took  refuge  beneath  the  roof.  Here,  in  no 
very  good  humour  with  the  world,  especially 
Asiatic  jungles  and  tropic  rains,  he  sulkily 
"  whistled  for  want  of  thought,"  and  employed 
his  eyes  in  watching  the  preparations  for  his 
breakfast. 

"  Uh !  what  wretched  corners  the  world 
has,  hidden  beyond  its  oceans  and  behind  its 
trees !" 

Just  as  he  had  made  this  sage  mental  reflec- 
tion, he  was  startled  by  the  vision  of  a  fair, 
smiling  face  in  front  of  the  zayat,  the  property 
of  a  dripping  figure,  which  seemed  to  his  sur- 
prised imagination  to  nave  stepped  that  mo- 


THE    FEMALE    MISSIONARY. 


ment  from  the  clouds.  But  the  party  of  wild 
Karen  followers,  which  gathered  round  her, 
had  a  very  human  air ;  and  the  slight  burdens 
they  bore,  spoke  of  human  wants  and  human 
cares.  The  lady  seemed  as  much  surprised  as 
himself;  but  she  curtsied  with  ready  grace, 
as  she  made  some  pleasant  remark  in  English ; 
and  then  turned  to  retire.  Here  was  a  dilem- 
ma. He  could  not  suffer  the  lady  to  go  out 
into  the  rain,  but — his  miserable  accommoda- 
tions, and  still  more  miserable  breakfast !  He 
hesitated  and  stammered  ;  but  her  quick  appre- 
hension had  taken  in  all  at  a  glance,  and  she 
at  once  relieved  him  from  his  embarrassment. 
Mentioning  her  name  and  errand,  she  added, 
smiling,  that  the  emergencies  of  the  wilderness 
were  not  new  to  her ;  and  now  she  begged 
leave  to  put  her  own  breakfast  with  his,  and 
make  up  a  pleasant  morning  party.  Then 
beckoning  to  her  Karens,  she  spoke  a  few  un- 
intelligible words,  and  disappeared  under  a  low 
shed — a  mouldering  appendage  of  the  zayat. 
She  soon  returned  with  the  same  sunny  face, 
and  in  dry  clothing  ;  and  very  pleasant  indeed 
was  the  interview  between  the  pious  officer 
and  the  lady-missionary.  They  were  friends 
afterward;  and  the  circumstances  of  their 


170  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

first  meeting  proved  a  very  charming  reminis- 
cence. 

Mrs.  Boardman  had  always  been  peculiarly 
domestic  in  her  character  and  habits  ;  esteem- 
ing herself  blessed  above  measure,  when  in  the 
bosom  of  her  family,  administering  to  her  hus- 
band's happiness,  or  unfolding  the  budding 
intellects  of  her  children,  and  fitting  their 
little  spirits  for  their  future  destiny.  But  now 
she  sat  in  the  zayat,  which  had  been  erected 
for  her  husband,  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain, 
and  in  others,  wherever  a  little  company  of 
worshippers  could  be  collected,  and  performed 
even  weightier  offices,  than  those  of  Miriam  and 
Anna ;  not  like  the  wild-eyed  priestess  of 
Apollo,  breathing  burning  words  from  the 
sacred  tripod,  and  mad  with  imagined  inspira- 
tion ;  but  meek,  and  sometimes  tearful,  speak- 
ing in  low,  gentle  accents,  and  with  a  manner 
sweetly  persuasive.  In  several  instances  she 
thus  conducted  the  worship  of  two  or  three 
hundred  Karens,  through  the  medium  of  her 
Burmese  interpreter  ;  and  such  was  her  modest 
manner  of  accomplishing  the  unusual  task, 
that  even  the  most  fastidious  were  pleased  ; 
and  a  high  officer  of  the  English  Church, 
which  is  well-known  to  take  strict  cognizance 
of  irregularities,  saw  fit  to  bestow  up*on  her 


THE    FEMALE    MISSIONARY  171 

unqualified  praise.  These  acts,  however,  were 
not  in  accordance  with  her  feminine  taste  or 
her  sense  of  propriety.  The  duty,  which  cal- 
led her  to  them,  was  fashioned  by  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances ;  and,  as  soon  as  opportunity  offer- 
ed, she  gladly  relinquished  the  task,  in  favour 
of  a  person  better  suited  to  its  performance. 


15* 


A  NEW  HOME. 

"The  love-lit  eye,  too,  ere  she  spoke. 
Forestalled  the  office  of  her  tongue  ; 

And  hearts  on  -which  its  radiance  "broke. 

Thrilled  with  new  life  and  heavenward  spring  , 

And  prayer  and  praise,  -where'er  she  trod. 
Bore  witness  that  she  walked  with  God." 

Renne. 


T  the  commencement  of  the  fourth 
year  of  her  widowhood,  Mrs.  Board- 
:ssjl  man,  by  accepting  the  name  of  one, 
whom,  long  after,  she  declares  to  be,  "  a  com- 
plete assemblage  of  all  that  a  woman's  heart 
could  wish  to  love  and  honour,"  found  herself 
in  a  new  station,  with  new  duties  clustering 
thickly  around  her.  She  parted  from  her 
"beloved  Karens"  with  the  less  regret,  that 
they  were  left  in  charge  of  judicious  and 
devoted  "  teachers."  But  she  never  forgot 
them  ;  and,  for  many  years,  she  required  a  list 


A    NEW    HOME.  173 


of  all  the  converts  to  be  sent  her,  and  fre- 
quently had  occasion  to  rejoice  over  the  final 
ingathering  of  those,  for  whose  salvation  she 
had,  in  former  times,  zealously  laboured. 
Maulmain  had  grown  into  a  large,  populous 
town,  since  young  Boardman  erected  his  bam- 
boo cottage  in  the  jungle ;  new  missionaries 
had  gathered  there ;  several  flourishing  schools 
had  been  established ;  and  the  printing-press 
was  sending  forth  its  publications  in  every 
direction.  When  she  left  her  first  Burman 
home,  in  1828,  for  Tavoy,  there  was  one 
church  at  Maulmain,  containing  three  native 
members !  Now,  in  charge  of  her  present 
husband,  were  three  flourishing  churches — 
one  Burmese,  of  about  a  hundred  members, 
and  two  Karen,  containing  unitedly  the  same 
number.  An  English  church  had  also  been 
established  by  the  missionaries,  but  was  kept 
in  a  fluctuating  state,  by  the  frequent  changes 
occurring  in  the  army.  Still  this  success 
seemed  to  those  who  occupied  a  position  to 
measure  the  extent  of  the  immense  field,  but 
one  small  step  in  their  progress ;  and  Mrs. 
Judson,  instead  of  finding  her  usefulness  re- 
tarded by  her  new  position,  saw  opening  before 
her  a  wider  and  more  effective  range.  The 
river  of  her  life  now  flowed  on  more  evenly — 


174  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSONf 

deeper,  broader,  serener — with  nothing  to  ob- 
struct its  course ;  but  its  wealth  of  waters 
scarce  made  a  sound,  as  they  floated  by.  It 
was  a  life  of  which  there  is  much  to  remember, 
and  little  to  tell ;  as,  a  year  of  stirring  events 
may  fill  a  volume,  while  perhaps  the  dozen 
valuable  years  of  patient  toil  and  quiet  endur- 
ance that  follow,  have  their  only  record  on  a 
single  page.  She  did  not  establish  schools, 
for  that  ground  was  already  occupied ;  nor  did 
she  make  long  tours  in  the  wilderness,  and 
speak  to  listening  crowds  in  the  zayat;  but 
she  was  in  heart  and  life  a  missionary  still. 
"  I  can  truly  say,"  she  writes  to  a  very  intimate 
friend,  a  year  after  her  marriage,  "  that  the 
mission  cause  and  missionary  labour  is  increas- 
ingly dear  to  me,  every  month  of  my  life.  I 
am  now  united  with  one,  whose  heavenly  spirit 
and  example  is  deeply  calculated  to  make  me 
more  devoted  to  the  cajise,  than  I  ever  have 
been  before.  Oh,  that  I  may  profit  by  such 
precious  advantages." 

Immediately  after  her  arrival  at  Maulmain, 
the  Civil  Commissioner  invited  Mrs.  Judson  to 
take  charge  of  a  Government  School,  which 
was  to  be  conducted  on  the  same  plan  as  those 
at  Tavoy ;  but,  in  view  of  other  labors,  it  was 
thought  advisable  for  her  to  decline. 


A    NEW    HOME.  175 


A  large  share  of  the  population  of  Maul  main 
and  Amherst  consisted  of  Peguans,  (called  by 
the  Burmans,  Taleings,)  a  people  entirely  dis- 
tinct from  the  Burmans,  in  everything  but  re- 
ligion. About  a  century  ago,  they  made  war 
upon  Burmah,  and  subdued  the  entire  empire ; 
but  their  star  was  only  a  short  time  in  the  as- 
cendant. Alompra,  the  founder  of  the  present 
dynasty  in  Burmah,  by  his  combined  bravery 
and  cunning,  delivered  his  country  from  its 
chains,  and  the  victors  became,  in  their  turn, 
the  vanquished.  It  was  now  the  policy  of  the 
Burman  government  to  give  permanency  to 
their  success,  by  up-rooting  the  old  Peguan 
dynasty ;  and  the  whole  royal  family,  even  in 
its  most  remote  branches,  was  swept  away. 
The  king,  a  venerable,  white-haired  old  man, 
was  conveyed  with  great  pomp  to  the  capital, 
where  he  suffered  an  ignominious  death,  amid 
the  triumphs  of  his  enemies ;  and  the  nation 
was,  henceforth,  fairly  incorporated  with  the 
Burmans.  The  language  was,  at  different 
times,  proscribed ;  and  men  living  in  Burman 
towns  seldom  ventured  to  use  it,  except  in 
secret.  Affairs  remained  in  this  condition  be- 
tween the  two  nations,  till  the  close  of  the 
Burmese  and  English  war  ;  when  the  Peguans, 
headed  by  an  old  man,  more  fiery  than  power- 


176  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.   JUDSON. 

ful,  who  boasted  some  few  diluted  drops  of  the 
blood-royal,  made  an  effort  to  regain  their  free- 
dom. When  the  English  steamer  passed  down 
the  Irawaddy,  after  the  treaty,  the  warlike 
demonstrations  on  the  way  produced  no  little 
surprise.  Rangoon  was  besieged,  and  all  the 
country  round  was  swarming  with  rebellious 
Peguans.  A  missionary,  who  accompanied 
Commissioner  Crawford  on  this  occasion,  re- 
lates many  thrilling  anecdotes,  which,  however 
interesting,  would  be  irrelevant  here  ;  but  per- 
haps the  deep  interest,  which  he  afterwards 
exhibited  in  the  vanquished  and  scattered 
Peguans,  may  have  been  in  part  founded  on 
these  circumstances.  The  English  unwittingly 
gave  the  death-blow  to  the  insurrection.  The 
Peguans  were  in  possession  of  the  country ; 
and  the  Burmese  within  the  besieged  town 
were  suffering  for  lack  of  food,  which  could 
not  be  conveyed  to  them,  while  the  enemy  held 
posts  along  the  river.  As  the  steamer  passed 
on  her  way,  the  firing  was  suspended  out  of 
respect  to  the  British  flag.  The  Burmans  had 
foreseen  this,  and  despatched  boat-loads  of 
provisions,  to  follow  in  the  vessel's  wake,  ply- 
ing the  oar  at  night  in  places  where  they  could 
do  so  with  safety,  while  she  lay  at  anchor,  and 
concealing  themselves  during  the  day  in  the 


A    NEW    HOME.  177 


windings  of  the  river,  as  near  as  they  could 
follow.  The  ruse  was  successful ;  the  provis- 
ions were  landed  at  Rangoon,  and  the  Peguans 
shortly  after  raised  the  siege,  and  fled  to  the 
English  provinces  for  protection.  Most  of 
these  people,  especially  the  men,  were  in  some 
degree  familiar  with  the  Burmese  language; 
but  it  was  found  very  difficult  to  give  them 
religious  instruction  through  this  medium. 
After  a  time,  a  man,  who  had  served  as  in- 
terpreter between  his  countrymen  and  the 
American  teachers,  was  employed  by  one  of 
the  latter,  to  render  a  Burmese  tract  in  his 
native  tongue ;  but  as  there  was  no  one  to 
revise  it,  the  task  was  doubtless  very  imper- 
fectly executed.  However,  the  old  Christian 
woman,  to  whom  it  was  first  read,  was  almost 
wild  with  delight ;  and  this  circumstance  ex- 
cited an  interest  in  the  behalf  of  the  Peguans, 
which  could  not  be  smothered  by  other  duties, 
however  important.  And,  from  this  time,  their 
language  became,  through  one  who  could  not 
himself  pursue  the  study  of  it,  an  importunate 
beggar  at  the  heart  of  every  missionary,  whose 
hands  were  not  full.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Jones 
looked  into  it  a  little  before  they  finally  turned 
to  the  Siamese  ;  and  then  Mrs.  Simons  was 
induced  to  make  a  beginning,  but  she  soon 


178  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

abandoned  it  for  other  employment.  On  the 
arrival  of  Mrs.  Judson  from  Tavoy,  she  enter- 
ed at  once  into  her  husband's  views,  and  com- 
menced the  study  of  this  new  language,  with 
patient  assiduity  ;  and  during  the  three  or  four 
years  which  she  devoted  to  it,  she  made  no  in- 
considerable progress.  She  also  established 
female  prayer-meetings  in  the  church,  of  which 
her  husband  was  pastor ;  having  the  timid 
Burmese  women  come  to  her  in  classes,  in- 
stead of  forming  together  one  great  assembly. 

Beside  this,  she  collected  a  class  to  whom 
she  weekly  taught  the  Scriptures ;  and  under 
her  direction,  the  mothers  of  the  church  formed 
themselves  into  a  maternal  society,  "  which," 
she  says  in  a  letter,  "meets  once  a  month, 
and  is  becoming  every  month  more  and  more 
interesting."  Then  there  were  the  seemingly- 
small,  never-ceasing  duties  of  a  pastor's  wife  ; 
the  ignorant  to  instruct  by  the  daily,  patient 
"  line  upon  line,"  the  erring  to  admonish,  the 
sorrowful  to  pray  over,  little  difficulties  to 
settle,  and  many  a  small  obstacle  to  remove 
from  the  path  that  weak,  timid  feet  were  tread- 
ing ;  "  for,"  ^he  says,  "  about  half  of  the 
church  are  females,  who  require  to  be  guided 
and  led  along  like  children." 

Soon  after  Mrs.  Judson's  removal  to  Maul- 


A    NEW    HOME.  179 


main,  she  was  again  seized  with  the  alarming 
malady,  which  had  already  made  such  inroads 
on  her  constitution.  After  many  weeks  of 
doubtful  lingering,  she  began  slowly  to  recover; 
but,  as  she  attributed  the  perfect,  uninterrupt- 
ed health,  which  she  afterwards  enjoyed,  to  a 
cause  within  the  reach  of  all  who  come  to  this 
land  of  shortened  lives,  it  may  be  well  to  give 
the  entire  account,  in  her  own  words : 

"  When  I  first  came  up  from  Tavoy,  I  was 
thin  and  pale;  and  though  I  called  myself 
pretty  well,  I  had  no  appetite  for  food,  and  was 
scarce  able  to  walk  half  a  mile.  Soon  after,  I 
was  called  to  endure  a  long  and  severe  attack 
of  illness,  which  brought  me  to  the  brink  of 
the  grave.  1  was  never  so  low  in  any  former 
illness,  and  the  doctor  who  attended  me,  has 
since  told  me,  that  he  had  no  hope  of  my  re- 
covery ;  and  that  when  he  came  to  prescribe 
medicine  for  me,  it  was  more  out  of  regard  to 
the  feelings  of  my  husband,  than  from  any  pros- 
pect of  its  affording  me  relief.  I  lay  confined  to 
my  bed,  week  after  week,  unable  to  move,  ex- 
cept as  Mr.  Judson  sometimes  carried  me  in  his 
arms  from  the  bed  to  the  couch  for  a  change ; 
and  even  this  once  brought  on  a  return  of  the 
disease,  which  very  nearly  cost  me  my  life.  * 
I  never  shall  forget  the  precious  seasons  en- 
16 


180  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

joyed  on  that  sick  bed.  Little  George  will  tell 
you  about  it,  if  you  should  ever  see  him.  I 
think  he  will  always  remember  some  sweet  con- 
versations I  had  with  him,  on  the  state  of  his 
soul,  at  that  time.  Dear  child  !  his  mind  was 
very  tender,  and  he  would  weep  on  account  of 
his  sins,  and  would  kneel  down  and  pray  with 
all  the  fervour  and  simplicity  of  childhood.  He 
used  to  read  the  Bible  to  me  every  day,  and 
commit  little  hymns  to  memory  by  my  bedside. 
*  *  It  pleased  my  Heavenly  Father  to  raise 
me  up  again,  although  I  was  for  a  long  time 
very  weak.  As  soon  as  I  was  able,  I  com- 
menced riding  on  horseback,  and  used  to  take 
a  long  ride  every  morning  before  sunrise. 
After  a  patient  trial,  I  found  that  riding  im- 
proved my  health  ;  though  many  times  I  should 
have  become  discouraged  and  given  it  up, 
but  for  the  perseverance  of  my  husband.  Af- 
ter riding  almost  every  day,  for  four  or  five 
months,  I  found  my  health  so  much  improved, 
and  gained  strength  so  fast,  that  I  began  to 
think  walking  might  be  substituted.  About 
this  time,  my  nice  little  pony  died,  and  we 
commenced  a  regular  system  of  exercise  on 
foot,  walking  at  a  rapid  pace,  far  over  the  hills 
beyond  the  town,  before  the  sun  was  up,  every 
morning.  We  have  continued  this  perseve- 


A    NEW    HOME.  181 

ringly  up  to  the  present  time ;  and,  during  these 
years,  my  health  has  been  better  than  at  any 
time  previous,  since  my  arrival  in  India ;  and 
my  constitution  seems  to  have  undergone  an 
entire  renovation." 

Soon  after  this,  the  native  Christians  in  Bur- 
mah  Proper,  were  called  to  endure  violent  per- 
secutions ;  but  the  commotions  could  not  reach 
the  provinces  ;  and  there,  under  the  protection 
of  the  British  flag,  the  religion  of  Christ  was 
daily  gaining  new  adherents.  In  one  letter 
Mrs.  Judson  announces  the  baptism  of  eighteen, 
who  were  united  to  the  Burmese  church,  and 
adds,  "  The  Karens  are  flocking  into  the  king- 
dom by  scores."  Information  concerning  her 
own  occupation,  during  this  time,  must  be 
gleaned  from  her  letters,  in  fragments. 

"  My  time  is  chiefly  devoted  to  the  study  of 
the  Peguan,  and  to  the  instruction  of  the 
native  Christians  and  inquirers."  "  My  female 
prayer-meetings  are  very  interesting.  Yester- 
day twenty-six  Burman  women  met  with  me, 
at  different  times ;  and  we  had  six  inquirers, 
four  of  whom  I  think  very  hopeful." 

"  My  husband  is  busy,  early  and  late,  super- 
intending the  publication  of  the  Burmese 
Bible,  and  taking  care  of  his  church," — (the 
Burmese ; — the  two  Karen  churches  had,  pre- 


182  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.   JUDSON. 

vious  to  this,  been  delivered  to  Mr.  Vinton, 
who  has  since  proved,  not  only  a  powerful 
preacher  in  that  tongue,  but  one  of  the  most 
zealous  and  persevering  of  labourers.)  "  In 
the  midst  of  his  multiplied  duties,  it  is  a  great 
gratification  to  me  that  I  am  able  to  relieve 
him,  in  some  measure,  by  giving  instruction 
and  advice  to  the  native  Christians,  and  set- 
tling little  difficulties  among  them."  "  We 
have  lately  established  a  Sabbath-School,  on 
the  plan  most  generally  adopted  in  America ; 
and  it  promises  to  be  successful  and  perma- 
nent. It  embraces  all  the  day-schools — six  in 
number — and  some  members  of  the  church 
beside.  Mr.  Osgood  superintends  it,  and  Mrs. 
Hancock  and  myself  assist.  It  is  conducted, 
of  course,  entirely  in  the  Burmese  language." 

"  When  I  last  wrote  you,  I  think  I  mentioned 
that  I  was  revising  the  standard  tracts  in 
Peguan.  I  have  finished  the  'Catechism^' 
'  View,'  '  Balance,'  and  '  Investigator,'  and 
gone  partly  through  with  the  Gospel  of  St. 
Luke." 

"  The  last  Peguan  tract  we  published  was 
the  '  Ship  of  Grace,'  which  was  written  in 
Burmese  by  my  departed  husband." 

Assisted  by  Ko  Man-boke,  a  Peguan  Chris- 
tian, who  was  familiar  with  the  Burmese,  she 


A    NEW    HOME.  183 


followed  her  revision  of  the  tracts  by  a  trans- 
lation of  the  New-Testament ;  and  at  the  close 
of  the  year  1837,  she  gave  to  the  press  an 
edition  of  the  Life  of  Christ,  which  she  had 
translated  from  the  Burmese.  In  the  mean- 
time, Mr.  Haswell  had  arrived ;  and,  as  soon 
as  she  could  do  so  to  advantage,  she  gladly 
placed  all  her  books  and  papers  in  the  hands 
of  a  missionary,  of  whose  facility  in  acquiring 
languages  she  speaks  admiringly ;  and  whose 
indefatigable  labours  in  a  field,  which  had  in- 
terested her  so  deeply,  must  have  been  very 
gratifying. 

Mrs.  Judson's  labours  in  the  Peguan,  were 
somewhat  singular ;  indeed,  I  believe  scarce 
precedented.  Missionaries  sometimes  aban- 
don one  language  and  devote  themselves 
to  the  acquisition  of  another,  in  which  they 
hope  to  effect  more  good.  But  I  know  of  only 
one  other  instance  (Ann  H.  Judson,  in  the 
Siamese)  of  stepping  from  the  path  which  has 
grown  familiar  to  the  foot,  toiling  for  years 
merely  to  supply  an  exigency,  and  then,  re- 
signing the  labour  and  its  fruits  to  another,  as 
willingly  as  though  it  had  never  cost  an  effort. 
She  used  to  sit  by  her  study-table,  all  day  long, 
except  when  called  elsewhere  by  imperative 
duty,  with  two  or  three  assistants  about  her ; 
16* 


184  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

and,  though  the  translations  and  revisions  there 
made  were  necessarily  imperfect,  there  has 
been  a  time  when  they  were  invaluable.  It 
was  from  this  position,  that  the  following 
words  were  penned  :  "I  am  sure,  my  dear 
parents,  that  you  have  never  regretted  giving 
up  your  beloved  child,  your  first-born,  to  the 
cause  of  Christ.  However  unworthy  the  offer- 
ing, it  was  valuable  to  you ;  and  if  given  up 
in  a  right  spirit,  it  has  been  the  source  of  most 
precious  blessings  to  your  souls.  It  is  in  this 
state  of  existence  only,  that  we  can  testify  our 
gratitude  to  the  Saviour,  by  suffering  and  de- 
nying ourselves  for  him.  Oh !  as  we  draw 
near  eternity,  and  the  bubbles  of  earth  recede 
from  our  dazzled  vision,  shall  we  not  lament 
that  we  have  done  so  little  for  Christ — that  we 
have  been  willing  to  deny  ourselves  so  little  for 
His  sake  who  gave  up  his  life  for  us  ?  Oh ! 
let  us  live  for  the  Saviour,  and  then,  after  a 
long  separation  on  earth,  how  sweet  to  meet 
at  God's  right  hand,  to  part  no  more  for 
ever  !" 

The  letter  continues,  "  The  little  ones  play 
in  the  verandah,  adjoining  the  room  where  I 
sit  all  the  day,  with  my  Peguan  translator.  It 
is  open  to  the  road,  and  I  often  have  inquirers. 
Since  I  commenced  this  letter,  I  happened  to 


A    NEW    HOME.  185 

look  up,  and  saw  a  man  leaning  over  the  balus- 
trade, looking  at  me  very  attentively.  The 
thought  occurred  to  me,  he  may  be  one  of  the 
dear  chosen  ones,  and  may  have  been  guided 
to  this  place  to  hear  the  blessed  Gospel.  So  I 
asked  him  what  he  wanted.  He  replied,  he 
was  looking  to  see  me  write.  I  immediately 
laid  down  my  pen,  invited  him  in,  and  he  sat 
a  long  time  listening  to  the  truth.  He  prom- 
ised to  pray  to  the  Eternal  God,  to  give  him  a 
new  heart,  that  he  might  believe  in  the 
Saviour,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  of  whom  he 
says  he  never  heard  till  to-day.  He  is  a  Shan, 
who  has  been  residing  for  a  number  of  years 
at  Pegu,  and  came  here  for  trade.  He  lives 
in  his  boat ;  and,  while  strolling  about  the 
streets,  was  led  by  curiosity  hither ;  and  oh, 
may  it  be  for  the  salvation  of  his  soul !" 

This  manner  of  life,  as  has  been  before  in- 
timated, had  no  showiness  about  it ;  but  every 
moment  of  time — each  golden  sand,  as  it  drop- 
ped from  the  glass,  combined  with  that  which 
went  before,  to  be  moulded  into  jewels  of  infi- 
nite richness.  Notwithstanding  the  bright  pro- 
mise of  Mrs.  Judson's  girlhood,  her  intellect 
was  in  reality  not  a  precocious  one,  and  there 
had  been  no  premature  development.  On  the 
contrary,  every  day  in  her  new  position,  gave 


186 


MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 


strength  and  comfort  to  her  mental  powers,  and 
increased  loftiness  to  her  character,  without 
abating  its  attractive  gentleness.  So,  even  in 
this  life,  begin  "the  children  of  light"  to 
mount  the  ladder,  whose  gradations  will  be 
the  measure  of  eternity. 


(BOH  A  IP  IF  IS  IB 


THE  MOTHER  AND  CHILD. 

"  He's  gone,  t>ut  oft  in  memory's  light, 

His  cherished  face  will  shine, 
His  plaintive  voice  "be  in  my  ear. 

His  little  hand  in  mine." 

Judson. 

|E  have  passed  one  event  in 
Mrs.  Judson's  life — the  greatest 
of  all  trials  which  beset  a  mis- 
sionary's trial-lined  path — without  mention. 
It  is  a  hard  thing  for  a  mother  to  lay  the  child 
of  her  love,  from  her  bosom,  to  the  dark, 
damp  pillow  fashioned  by  the  sexton's  spade  ; 
it  is  very  hard ;  but  when  the  little  spirit  passes 
from  the  clay,  both  hope  and  fear  pass  with  it, 
and  even  love  lies  down  to  a  sleep  of  beautiful 
dreams,  to  awake  at  last  with  its  renovated 
treasure  in  Paradise.  She  knows  that  her  pre- 
cious lamb  is  folded  in  the  Saviour's  arms  ; 
and  sorrow  gathers  a  serene  sweetness,  more 
grateful  to  a  meek  heart  than  the  brightest 


188  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

phase  of  joy.  Not  thus  does  the  mother  think 
upon  the  living  child,  that  she  has  exiled  from 
her  bosom,  though  it  may  have  been  in  her 
power  to  provide  for  it  a  pillow  of  roses.  Both 
hope  and  fear  assume  a  painful  intensity, 
which  time  never  softens ;  and  love  is  not  only 
awake  and  watchful,  but  its  keen-sightedness 
fashions  many  an  ill,  which  has  no  existence 
in  reality.  This  sacrifice  is  not  peculiar  to 
the  missionary.  The  Anglo-Saxon  blood  seems 
to  degenerate  under  the  influence  of  an  Asiatic 
sun ;  and  the  child  must  be  sent  away  to  de- 
velope  under  more  favourable  circumstances, 
or  arrive  at  manhood,  crippled  in  mind  and 
muscle  ;  and  in  this  enfeebled  state,  (if  he  have 
not  already  commenced  the  sad  career,)  run 
the  gauntlet  of  almost  every  vice.  But  there 
is  one  great  difference.  Most  Europeans  are 
but  temporary  residents  in  India.  The  mis- 
sionary alone  watches  the  ship,  as  it  bears 
away  his  treasure,  with  scarce  the  shadow  of  a 
hope  that  he  will  ever  look  upon  the  beloved 
face  again  on  earth.  He  may  watch  over  its 
welfare  from  a  distance,  he  may  lay  plans, 
and  make  sacrifices,  and  advise,  and  pray ;  he 
may  still  be  the  guiding-star  of  its  existence ; 
but  all  the  sweet  cares,  the  fond  solicitude 
which  has  its  origin  in  daily  watching,  the 


THE    MOTHER   AND    CHILD. 


tenderer  and  more  beautiful  duties  of  the  pa- 
rent, are  transferred  for  ever  to  another. 

Mrs.  Judson  had  taken  the  formidable  reso- 
lution of  parting  with  her  one  darling  boy,  pre- 
vious to  her  second  marriage ;  and  soon  after 
this  event,  an  opportunity  offered  for  sending 
him  to  America,  which  might  not  occur  again 
in  many  years.  The  ship  Cashmere  had 
brought  a  number  of  Missionaries  to  Maul- 
main  :  and  would  return  directly  to  Boston, 
with  the  exception  of  a  few  weeks  to  be  passed 
at  Singapore.  Mrs.  Judson  hesitated,  for  little 
George,  being  her  "  only  one,"  had  been  most 
tenderly  nurtured ;  and  his  nature  had  about 
it  a  clinging  tenderness  and  sensitiveness, 
which  peculiarly  unfitted  him  for  contact  with 
strangers.  Would  he  not  read  cruelty,  instead 
of  carelessness,  in  their  cold  eyes  ?  And  would 
not  the  voices,  which  love  did  not  modulate, 
sound  harsh  to  him  ?  Oh,  how  his  little  heart 
must  sometimes  ache,  when  there  would  be 
none  to  comfort  him  !  If  he  could  only  be 
under  a  woman's  care,  though  it  were  not  her 
own  ! — but  no ;  she  must  confide  him  to  men, 
young  men,  who,  however  kind  might  be  their 
intentions,  could  never  look  into  the  spirit  of 
her  little  boy  and  mark  its  delicate  workings, 
or  comprehend,  in  the  slightest  degree,  the 


190  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.   JUDSON. 

feeling  agitating  her  own  bosom.  Yet  they 
promised,  and  spoke  kindly  and  feelingly  ;  and 
— the  decisive  argument — this  was  her  only 
opportunity.  And  so  she  says,  "  After  delib- 
eration, accompanied  with  tears  and  agony 
and  prayers,  I  came  to  the  convict  ion  that  it 
was  my  duty  to  send  away  my  only  child,  my 
darling  George,  and  yesterday  he  bade  me  a  long 
farewell.  Oh,  my  dear  sister !  my  heart  is 
full,  and  I  long  to  disburden  it  by  writing  you 
whole  pages:  but  my  eyes  are  rolling  down 
with  tears,  and  I  can  scarcely  hold  my  pen." 
*  *  Oh  !  I  shall  never  forget  his  looks,  as 
he  stood  by  the  door  and  gazed  at  me  for  the 
last  time.  His  eyes  were  filling  with  tears, 
and  his  little  face  red  with  suppressed  emotion. 
But  he  subdued  his  feelings,  and  it  was  not 
till  he  had  turned  away,  and  was  going  down 
the  steps  that  he  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears.  I 
hurried  to  my  room ;  and  on  my  knees,  with 
my  whole  heart,  gave  him  up  to  God ;  and  my 
bursting  heart  was  comforted  from  above.  I 
felt  such  a  love  to  poor  perishing  souls,  as 
made  me  willing  to  give  up  all,  that  I  might 
aid  in  the  work  of  bringing  these  wretched 
heathen  to  Christ.  The  love  of  God,  mani- 
fested in  sending  his  only-begotten  and  well- 
beloved  Son  into  this  world,  to  die  for  our 


THE    MOTHER    AND    CHILD.  191 

sins,  touched  my  heart,  and  I  felt  satisfaction 
in  laying  upon  the  altar  my  only  son.  My 
reason  and  judgment  tell  me  that  the  good  of 
my  child  requires  that  he  should  be  sent  to 
America;  and  this,  of  itself,  would  support 
me  in  some  little  degree;  but  when  I  view  it 
as  a  sacrifice,  made  for  the  sake  of  Jesus,  it 
becomes  a  delightful  privilege.  I  feel  a  great 
degree  of  confidence,  that  George  will  be  con- 
verted, and  I  cannot  but  hope  he  will  one  day 
return  to  Burmah,  a  missionary  of  the  Cross, 
as  his  dear  father  was.  *  '  His  dear  papa 
took  him  down  to  Amherst  in  a  boat.  He 
held  him  in  his  arms  all  the  way  ;  and  he  says 
his  conversation  was  very  affectionate  and  in- 
telligent. He  saw  his  little  bed  prepared  in 
the  cabin,  and  every  thing  as  comfortable  and 
pleasant  as  possible,  and  then,  as  Georgie  ex- 
pressed it,  returned  to  '  comfort  mama.'  And 
much  did  I  need  comfqjt ;  for  this  is,  in  some 
respects,  the  severest  trial  I  have  ever  met 
with." 

Here  let  us  leave  the  mother  to  her  griefs 
and  consolations ;  and  give,  here  and  there,  a 
glance  at  the  little  wanderer,  who  has  com- 
menced the  long  dreary  voyage,  to  the  land  of 
his  parents'  birth.  We  find  him  at  first,  sur- 
rounded by  gentle  and  loving  friends — so  gen- 
17 


192  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

tie,  and  so  loving,  that  he  scarce  misses  his 
mother's  voice  and  kiss ;  and  longs  to  behold 
her  only,  that  he  may  give  her  an  account  of 
the  wonders  he  is  from  day  to  day  beholding. 
Every  body  loves  him,  and  studies  his  happi- 
ness. The  missionaries  destined  to  Singapore 
pity  him,  and  pity  the  parents  left  behind,  and 
they  vie  with  each  other  in  bestowing  upon 
him  the  minutest  attention  which  they  think 
might  be  suggested  by  a  mother's  love.  The 
officers  and  the  crew  are-  all  charmed  with  him  ; 
for  the  presence  of  a  child  in  the  ship  is  not  a 
common  thing,  and  he  is  a  child  of  peculiar 
gentleness.  Arrived  at  Singapore,  he  is  still 
with  missionaries,  whose  sympathies  are  all 
enlisted  in  his  behalf;  and  their  children  are 
his  pleasant  playmates.  And  now  he  attracts 
other  attention  ;  and  so  he  goes  to  sit  in  richly 
furnished  apartments,  such  as  he  has  never 
seen  before ;  and  he  looks  at  handsome  paint- 
ings, and  walks  through  fine  gardens,  while  he 
is  loaded  with  caresses  by  those  who  wonder 
of  what  magic  power  the  mother  is  possessed, 
who  has  thus  far,  and  thus  well,  bred  up  her 
son  in  heathen  Burmah. 

Next,  we  will  step  into  the  open  boat,  and 
follow  the  little  wanderer  to  the  ship  all  ready 
to  spread  her  sails  for  America.  It  is  rowed  by 


THE   MOTHER    AND    CHILD.  193 

natives ;  but  the  child  is  still  under  the  protec- 
tion of  the  two  missionaries,  Jones  and  "Dean. 
They  are  ten  miles  from  the  shore,  and  five 
from  the  ship — all  alone,  and  without  arms. 
A  boat  with  three  wild,  fierce-looking  men, 
hails  them  in  a  seeming  friendly  manner  ;  and 
coming  near  enough  to  spy  out  their  strength, 
or  rather  weakness,  moves  on.  But  the  little 
company  suspects  no  danger.  A  few  moments 
pass,  and  the  spy-boat  re-appears.  It  heads 
directly  towards  them,  and  comes  with  more 
speed — a  sail  hoisted,  and  better  manned.  A 
quick  glance  of  suspicion  is  exchanged,  but 
there  is  time  for  no  more,  for  the  sail  is  close 
alongside.  The  strangers  ask  but  a  cluster  of 
fruit,  however,  and  one  of  the  gentlemen  rises 
to  give  it  them.  What  a  gleaming  of  fiendish 
eyes  !  A  moment  of  rapid  action  succeeds — a 
push — a  plunge — and  the  kind  fruit-giver  is 
struggling  with  the  waves  which  have  closed 
above  his  head.  They  attempt  to  wrestle  a 
little  with  his  companion,  but  finally  seize  their 
arms.  The  little  boy,  from  his  hiding-place 
beneath  a  bench,  marks  every  thrust  ;  and  his 
flesh  creeps,  and  his  blue  eyes  glitter  and  di- 
late until  they  assume  an  intense  blackness. 
And  now  the  form  of  his  protector  sways  and 
reels,  and  the  red  blood  trickles  from  his 


194  MEMOIR    OP    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

wounded  side  to  the  bottom  of  the  boat.  He 
stands,  however,  and  receives  another  wound. 
And  now  the  three  iron  prongs  of  a  fishing 
spear  send  their  barbed  points  through  bone 
and  muscle,  and  the  heavy  wooden  handle  is 
left  hanging  from  the  transfixed  and  bleeding 
wrist.  At  this  fearful  crisis,  a  hand  from  with- 
out clutches  the  boat — a  pale,  dripping  face 
appears,  and  the  drowning  man  is  dragged 
over  the  side,  by  the  bewildered  oarsman 
What  a  place  to  seek  safety  in  !  The  marau- 
ders stand  with  drawn  cutlass,  or  brandishing 
the  curved  creese ;  but  they  pause  a  moment 
in  their  deadly  work,  and  substitute  threats  for 
blows.  Their  tones  are  those  of  infuriated 
madmen,  and  their  gestures — hah  !  a  light  be- 
gins to  break?  Can  that  one  small  box,  stand- 
ing so  unpretendingly  in  the  centre  of  the  boat, 
be  the  cause  of  the  affray  ?  It  contains  treas- 
ure, true,  but  not  such  as  they  can  appreciate 
— messages  of  love  from  absent  children,  broth- 
ers, sisters  and  friends,  to  those  who  would 
value  them  far  above  gold  and  rubies.  It  is 
gladly  flung  to  them,  however,  and  the  pirate- 
boat  wheels  and  flees,  like  a  bird  of  prey. 

Thank  God,  that  death  came  neither  in  the 
wave  nor  the  steel !  And  oh,  how  heart-felt, 
how  unutterably  deep,  will  be  the  mother's  grat- 


THE    MOTHER   AND    CHILD.  195 

itude,  when  she  hears  of  her  darling's  safety  ! 
When  she  knows  that  he  has  not  been  borne 
away  to  some  dark  haunt  of  vice  and  crime,  to 
be  bred  to  the  bloody  trade  of  a  wild  Malayan 
Corsair  ! 

We  might  follow  the  little  child  still  farther. 
We  might  see  him  stand,  with  paled  cheek, 
and  lip  quivering,  watching  the  death-agonies 
of  the  pet-goat,  which  had  been  his  playmate 
in  the  green  compound  at  Maulmain,  while  it 
occurred,  none  of  the  sailors  who  stood  laugh- 
ing by,  to  explain  to  him  the  reason,  (if  reason 
there  was,)  for  the  seemingly  wanton  deed. 
We  might  see  him,  who,  from  necessity,  had 
been  the  constant  companion  of  a  quiet,  re- 
fined, delicate  mother,  and  whose  little  spirit 
was  all  too  sensitively  attuned,  shrinking, 
shocked  and  frightened,  from  the  coarse,  rude 
jests,  which  were  intended  for  his  amusement ; 
and  regarding  the  blunt  kindness,  which  es- 
teemed itself  all  sufficient  to  "  make  a  man  of 
him,"  as  the  bitterest  cruelty.  We  might  mark 
his  lonely  pillow  wetted  by  his  tears  at  night, 
and  in  the  day,  see  him  creep  away  alone  to 
the  boat,  suspended  at  the  stern  of  the  ship, 
and  gaze  away  over  the  blue  waters  till  his 
eyes  were  too  dim  to  discern  their  line  of  meet- 
ing with  the  horizon  ;  and  then  lean  his  face 
17* 


196  MEMOIR    OF   SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

upon  his  knees,  and  relieve  his  childish  misery 
by  unchecked  sobbings.  But  the  mother  fol- 
lowed him  only  in  imagination — not  in  spirit, 
for  God,  in  mercy,  denies  to  mortals  that  com- 
munion by  which  the  chords  of  her  heart  would 
now  have  been  stirred  so  agonizingly.  She 
had  committed  her  treasure  to  a  true  Friend ; 
and  she  knew  that  in  sickness  or  in  health,  in 
the  ship  or  beneath  the  wave,  he  rested  in  the 
hollow  of  an  Omnipotent  Hand,  and  the  wing 
of  peace  was  over  him. 

Soon  after  the  separation,  George  received  a 
little  copy  of  verses  from  his  mother,  which  I 
wish  I  could  place  upon  the  page,  as  it  lies  be- 
fore me  now — the  large  letters  carefully  prin- 
ted by  her  pen,  that  he  might  be  able  to  read 
it  without  assistance;  and  the  nice  paper  lining 
afterwards  stitched  around  by  the  fingers  of 
the  grateful  son.  One  would  not  look  to  such 
a  place  for  literary  or  poetic  merit,  (unless  the 
effusion  were  addressed  to  an  ideal,  instead  of 
real  child,  or  intended  for  more  than  one  little 
pair  of  eyes) ;  and  so  I  will  venture  to  write 
down  the  simple  rhymes,  without  their  attract- 
ive concomitants. 


THE    MOTHER   AND    CHILD.  197 

"FOR   MY   DARLING    GEORGIE. 

"  You  cannot  see  your  dear  mama, 

But  think  of  her,  my  love ; 
Nor  can  you  see  your  dear  papa, 

For  he's  in  heaven  above. 

Your  sister  Sarah,  too,  is  gone, 

And  little  brother  dear ; — 
But  still,  my  child,  you're  not  alone, 

For  God  is  ever  near." 

Something  of  Mrs.  Judson's  character,  as  a 
mother,  and  her  mode  of  instruction,  may  be 
inferred  from  the  following  letter  to  her  little 


"  Maulmain,  May  5th,  1835. 
"  My  Darling  Child, 

"  Your  papa  has  to-day  received  a  letter  from 
Mr.  Dean,  informing  us  that  Mrs.  Dean  has 
gone  to  heaven — that  happy  world,  where  your 
own  dear  father,  and  your  little  brother  and 
sister  have  been  for  several  years — that  blessed 
world,  where  Jesus  is  who  died  on  the  cross 
for  our  sins,  and  who  rose  from  the  dead  on 
the  third  day — that  blessed  world  where  there  is 
no  more  sorrow,  or  sin,  or  separation,  or  death. 
Do  you  sometimes  weep  and  feel  very  sorry 


198  MEMOIR   OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

because  you  cannot  see  your  mama?  Your 
mama  also  feels  very  sad,  and  weeps  sometimes, 
because  she  cannot  live  with  her  dear,  only 
little  boy.  But,  Georgie,  if  we  are  so  blessed 
as  to  reach  heaven  when  we  die,  we  shall  never 
be  parted  again,  and  shall  never  weep  any 
more. 

.,  "  Mr.  Dean  writes,  that  you  are  a  good  boy ; 
and  it  makes  your  dear  papa  and  myself  very 
happy  to  hear  so.  If  you  are  really  and  truly 
a  good  boy,  if  you  are  afraid  to  sin,  afraid  to  do 
any  thing  that  God  will  not  approve,  though 
unknown  to  your  friends,  Jesus  will  love  you 
and  bless  you.  Some  little  boys  appear  to  be 
very  good  and  obedient,  in  the  presence  of 
their  parents,  or  persons  older  than  themselves, 
but  when  alone,  or  with  other  children,  they 
think  naughty  thoughts,  say  naughty  words, 
and  do  naughty  things.  Because  they  behave 
well  in  the  presence  of  their  parents  and  teach- 
ers, their  friends  think  they  are  very  good. 
But  they  are  not  good,  and  God  does  not  love 
such  naughty  little  boys ;  and  if  their  papas 
and  mamas  knew  that  their  children  were 
naughty  oat  of  their  sight,  they  would  be  very 
unhappy.  "^Remember,  my  dear  child,  that 
God  sees  you  at  all  times. 

"  Do  you  know,  George,  the  meaning  of  the 


THE    MOTHER    AND    CHILD.  199 

word  deceive?  I  will  try  to  explain  it  to  you. 
Once  at  evening  worship,  in  the  Barman 
Chapel,  you  did  not  keel  down  at  prayer,  but 
just  as  your  papa  was  going  to  say  '  amen,' 
you  got  down  softly  from  your  chair  and  knelt 
a  moment,  so  that  you  might  rise  while  the 
rest  of  the  people  were  rising.  Now  consider 
— what  did  you  kneel  down  and  get  up  imme- 
diately for  ?  It  was,  that  we  might  think  you 
had  been  kneeling  all  prayer-time.  And  yet 
you  had  not  been  kneeling  all  prayer  time — 
only  a  moment.  This  is  what  we  mean  by 
deceiving — making  others  think  a  thing  differ- 
ent from  what  it  really  is. 

"  I  will  tell  you,  my  dear  child,  several  ways 
in  which  it  would  have  been  proper  for  you  to 
act  at  the  native  worship.  One  is  this  :  You 
might  have  knelt  down  at  first,  and  when  you 
found  yourself  growing  tired,  you  might  have 
kept  thinking  in  your  mind,  '  true,  I  am  very 
tired,  and  my  knees  ache  very  much,  but  I 
will  try  to  keep  still  and  think  of  praying  to 
God,  till  prayer  is  over.'  Or,  if  you  were  too 
sleepy  to  think,  you  might  have  got  up  and  sat 
in  your  chair,  till  prayer  was  done,  and  after 
worship,  said,  '  Dear  papa,  I  was  too  tired  and 
sleepy  to  kneel  down  at  prayers  this  evening — 
please  excuse  me.'  You  should  not  have  tried 


200  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

to  make  us  think  you  knelt,  when  you  did  not, 
because  that  is  deceiving.  You  were  then  a 
very  little  boy,  and  did  not  know  any  better. 
Whenever  you  do  anything  wrong  now,  my 
darling,  go  immediately  and  confess  it  to  your 
friends,  and  ask  them  to  forgive  you ;  and 
pray  God  to  forgive  you. 

"  Your  papa  sends  much  love.  He  wrote 
you  a  little  while  ago ;  and  sent  some  pretty 
lines,  which  he  composed  himself,  for  you  to 
learn.  He  says  that  you  were  an  obedient, 
affectionate  child,  w,hen  with  us  ;  and  he  prays 
that  you  may  become  a  Christian. 

"  Don't  lose  this  letter,  Georgie,  for  it  has 
some  things  in  it  which  I  wish  you  to  remem- 
ber. Keep  it  folded  in  a  piece  of  paper  to 
read  again;  and  if  you  cannot  understand  it 
all,  ask  some  kind  friend  to  explain  it  to  you. 

"Farewell.  God  bless  you,  my  dear,  dear 
child  ! 

"  Your  affectionate  mama, 

SARAH  JUDSON." 

It  is  a  matter  of  regret  that  the  long  letter, 
which  accompanied  little  George  to  his  future 
guardians,  is  not  in  our  possession ;  for  it 
would  undoubtedly  unfold  a  system  of  mater- 
nal management,  which,  in  his  own  case,  and 


THE    MOTHER   AND    CHILD.  201 

that  of  the  children  who  succeeded  him,  has 
been  singularly  successful.  But  if  it  be  still 
in  existence,  its  possession  is  not  known ;  and 
we  must  content  ourselves  with  a  few  extracts 
from  a  letter  of  a  more  general  character,  ad- 
dressed to  the  lady  who  was  to  find  her  child 
a  home.  After  speaking  of  some  slight  ten- 
dency to  the  fatal  cough,  which  she  had  so 
much  reason  to  dread,  in  connection  with  a 
residence  in  a  northern  climate,  and  giving 
some  prescriptions  for  it,  she  adds  particulars 
about  clothing,  food,  exercise,  &c.  &-c.,  which 
shows  that  in  the  mental  and  moral  training 
of  her  child,  she  was  far  from  neglecting  his 
physical  developments.  "  Let  George,"  she 
continues,  "  call  the  persons,  with  whom  he 
finds  a  home,  '  uncle'  and  '  aunt/  if  they  desire 
it,  but  I  do  not  like  to  have  him  call  others 
'  papa'  and  '  mama'  while  we  live.  Let  him 
often  be  reminded  of  us;  and  let  the  love 
which  he  now  feels  for  us  be  carefully  cher- 
ished. 1  could  not  bear  to  be  forgotten  by  the 
little  one,  who  was  so  long  my  only  earthly 
comfort."  Then  she  mentions  some  necessa- 
ry qualifications  of  those,  who  take  charge  of 
her  little  son.  They  must  be  "  conscientious 
and  pious — a  family  over  whom  religion,  prac- 
tical and  heartfelt  religion,  maintains  a  con- 


202  MEMOIR   OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

stant  influence.  Oh !  may  he  fall  into  the 
hands  of  persons,  who  will  watch  vigilantly 
over  him,  and  detect  and  check  the  first  de- 
velopments of  the  natural  heart ;  persons  who 
desire  above  all  things,  that  their  children  be- 
come pious,  and  whose  daily  walk  and  conver- 
sation be  such  as  a  little  immortal  may  safely 
imitate.  But,  alas  !  who  can  have  for  my  poor 
child  the  feelings  of  a  mother?  Whose  heart 
can  be  so  tenderly  alive  to  every  development 
of  his  little  mind  1  Who  will  retire  to  weep 
and  pray,  as  I  have  done,  when  there  is  danger 
of  swerving  from  the  right  path  ?  But  I  must 
not  distrust  my  Heavenly  Father.  I  have  com- 
mitted my  child  to  his  keeping ;  and  I  pray 
daily  that  his  steps  may  be  guided  and  directed 
from  above.  *  *  *  Separated  as  Georgie 
is  from  me,  I  feel  anxious  to  hear  aJl  about  him 
that  I  can;  and  wish  you  would  furnish  the 
lady  who  is  to  take  charge  of  him  with  a  small 
blank-book,  to  keep  a  journal  of  his  health, 
conduct,  studies,  &/c.  &c.  I  feel  particularly 
positive  on  this  point,  and  cannot  be  denied. 
Do  not,  I  entreat  you,  place  him  with  any  per- 
son, who  will  not  keep  such  a  journal,  writing 
it  at  least  as  often  as  once  a  week,  and  forward 
the  books  to  me  by  every  opportunity.  I  do 
not  hesitate  to  say,  that  a  person,  who  could 


THE    MOTHER    AND    CHILD.  203 

refuse  or  neglect  this,  ought  not  to  have  the 
care  of  my  little  boy.  It  would  operate  as  a 
strong  incentive  to  good  conduct  on  the  part 
of  the  child,  to  know  that  a  faithful  account  of 
all  his  actions  was  to  be  sent  to  his  mother ; — 
but  still  it  is  better  to  make  the  love  and  fear 
of  God  the  great  motive  by  which  he  is  influ- 
enced." 

The  editress  of  the  Mother's  Journal  re-, 
marks,  in  her  Obituary  Notice,  that  Mrs.  Jud- 
son's  friends  in  America  were  afraid  to  take 
charge  of  little  George ;  "  for  so  perfect  had 
been  his  mother's  work  in  training  him  thus 
far,  that  they  should  fear  they  would  only  mar 
what  had  been  done."  Mrs.  Ballister,  the 
wife  of  the  American  Consul  at  Singapore, 
became  very  fond  of  him,  and  expressed  the 
greatest  astonishment,  that  a  child  born,  and 
thus  far  bred,  in  an  Asiatic  country,  could 
have  made  such  progress  in  mind,  manners, 
and  morals ;  and  the  friends  who  had  charge 
of  him,  wrote  from  the  same  place,  "  He  causes 
us  no  trouble,  since  he  only  needs  to  under- 
stand what  we  wish  of  him,  and  he  is  ready  to 
do  it." 

Notwithstanding  all  this,  Mrs.  Judson  wrote 
to  a  friend,  some  years  later,  and  when  she 
had  other  children  about  her,  "  I  think  I  made 
18 


204  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

one  mistake  in  the  management  of  George ; 
but  I  trust  the  effect  has  been  obviated  by  his 
being  so  earlv  thrown,  in  some  degree,  upon 
his  own  resources.  I  allowed  him  to  lean  too 
much  on  others,  instead  of  studying  to 
strengthen  his  character,  as  T  now  see  would 
have  been  better.  I  shall  endeavour  to  teach 
my  other  children  more  independence." 

We  cannot  do  better  here  than  add  short 
extracts  from  a  couple  of  letters,  written  many 
years  afterward,  when  the  mother's  earnest 
prayers  had  been  answered,  and  her  faith  had 
received  the  richest  of  all  rewards : 

"  My  Beloved  George — The  last  letter  which 
I  received  from  America  respecting  you,  re- 
joiced my  heart  more  than  the  reception  of  any 
letter  before  in  my  life.  It  was  from  Doct. 
Bolles,  and  contained  the  joyful  intelligence  of 
your  hopeful  conversion  to  God.  Still  I  am  not 
fully  satisfied — I  am  longing  to  hear  that  you 
'  daily  grow  in  grace  and  in  the  knowledge  of 
our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ.'  " 

"  This  is  the  fifteenth  anniversary  of  your 
birth-day;  and  I  feel  it  to  be — I  had  almost 
said,  the  most  important  period  in  your  life. 
At  least  it  is  very,  very  important,  as  on  the 
turn  which  you  now  take,  your  course  through 
life  will  probably  depend.  Oh,  how  comfort- 


THE    MOTHER    AND    CHILD.  205 

ing  to  my  anxious  heart  is  the  thought,  that 
you  have  decided  on  the  most  momentous  of 
all  subjects,  and  that  you  have  decided  right  ; 
that  you  have  determined  to  identify  yourself 
with  the  people  of  God,  by  leading  the  life  of 
a  humble  follower  of  the  blessed  Jesus.  Oh, 
how  full  of  anguish  would  my  soul  be,  now 
that  you  have  arrived  at  this  age,  had  I  not  a 
hope,  that  you  were  a  Christian  !  Blessed  be 
God  !  I  have  this  sweet,  this  cheering,  this 
most  consoling  of  all  hopes,  to  sustain  my 
heart  when  ready  to  sink,  as  it  measures  the 
distance  between  us,  or  looks  back  upon  my 
long  separation  from  you,  my  darling,  eldest 
son.  Tears  come  to  my  eyes,  and  I  am  ready 
to  throw  aside  my  pen,  and  obey  the  strong 
impulse  to  weep,  as  I  think  of  the  endearments 
of  your  infancy,  and  the  sweetness  of  your 
childhood,  when  your  soft  cheek  was  pressed 
to  mine,  and  all  your  little  griefs  buried  and 
forgotten  in  my  bosom.  I  always  think  of  you 
as  the  little,  innocent,  prattling  boy  you  then 
were.  I  would  fain  ever  think  of  you  as  such  ; 
but  the  picture  must  change ;  and  I  must  try 
to  imagine  you  growing  up  to  be  a  tall,  young 
man. 

"  I  said  before,  that  it  is  an  unspeakable  joy 
to  my   heart   that   you   are   hopefully   pious. 


206  MEMOIR   OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

Still,  I  am  far  from  being  free  from  anxiety  on 
your  account.  There  is,  you  know,  a  possi- 
bility of  our  being  deceived.  And  even  if  we 
jvre  able  to  say,  as  we  doubtless  may  be,  '  I 
know  that  I  have  passed  from  death  unto  life,' — 
yet  the  Christian's  path  is  beset  with  snares 
and  dangers.  No  doubt  you  have  already  had 
severe  struggles  with  remaining  sin  in  your 
heart.  I  feel  strong  and  peculiar  desires,  that 
you  become  a  truly  conscientious,  prayerful, 
devoted  Christian.  Be  not  contented  with  pos- 
sessing a  mere  hope  in  Christ,  that  He  will 
pardon  your  sins  and  save  you  at  last.  Live 
with  religion  in  daily  exercise  in  your  soul. 
Then  you  will — you  must  be  happy.  Can  you 
resolve  to  devote  your  whole  life  to  the  service 
of  your  blessed  Saviour  ?  Do  you  really  give 
Him  your  heart,  and  determine,  (with  His  as- 
sistance, which  He  will  surely  grant  in  answer 
to  prayer,)  never  to  do,  nor  say,  nor  think  any- 
thing contrary  to  His  holy  will  ?  True  reli- 
gion, always  in  exercise,  affords  the  only  cer- 
tain retreat  from  the  sorrows,  and  trials,  and 
sins  of  this  mortal  state. 

'  Draw  nigh  unto  God,  and  he  will  draw 
nigh  unto  you.' 

'  Pray  without  ceasing.' 

'  Watch  unto  prayer.'  " 


TRIAL  ON  TRIAL. 

"  Oh  !  who  could  "bear  life's  stormy  doom. 

Did  not  Thy  -wing  of  love 
Come  brightly  wafting  through  the  gloom. 

Our  peace-branch  from  above  ?" 

Moore. 


N  less  than  half-a-dozen  years  after  her 
second  marriage,  Mrs.  Judson  thus 
wrote  to  her  parents  :  "  My  beloved 
husband  has  been  troubled  with  a  cough  for 
about  six  months ;  and,  unless  speedily  re- 
moved, it  must  terminate  in  pulmonary  con- 
sumption. It  seems  to  me,  that  it  would  be 
pleasant  to  die  with  him,  but  oh !  how  could  I 
live  without  him  ?  I  have  already  passed 
through  many  trying  scenes  ;  but  now,  were  it 
not  for  the  sure  promise,  "  As  thy  day  is,"  so 
shall  thy  strength  be,"  I  should  yield  to  utter 
despondency,  at  the  sad  prospect  before  me." 

Of  all  destroyers,  she  had  reason  to  dread 
this   the   most;    and   now  it  was   standing  a 
18* 


208  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.   JITDSON. 

second  time  on  her  threshold.  There  was  the 
ominous  cough,  the  shortened  breath,  and  the 
pain  in  the  side — all  familiar  things  to  her ; 
then  followed  an  entire  failure  of  voice,  and  a 
consequent  suspension  of  pastoral  duties  ;  and 
finally  books  of  study  were  abandoned,  and  a 
sea-voyage  became  the  last  resort. 

There  is  nothing  on  earth  so  beautiful,  as 
the  household  on  which  love  forever  smiles, 
and  where  religion  walks,  a  counsellor  and 
friend.  No  cloud  can  darken  it,  for  its  twin- 
stars  are  centred  in  the  soul ;  no  storm  can 
make  it  tremble — it  has  an  earthly  support,  the 
gift  of  Heaven,  and  a  heavenly  anchor.  But 
the  roof  beneath  which  it  dwells  shelters  a 
sacred  spot,  where  the  curious  eye  must  not 
peer,  nor  the  stranger-foot  tread.  So  is  it  with 
the  warm,  soul-breathing  missives  now  beside 
me.  I  would  fain  copy  enough  of  them,  to 
show  how  the  one  flower,  which  seems  to  have 
been  spared  us  from  the  wreck  of  Eden, 
gathered  sweetness,  when  shadowed  by  the 
Cross ;  but  my  pen  shrinks  from  desecrating 
their  beauty.  At  this  moment,  however,  a  pair 
of  young,  dark  eyes  rise  before  me,  that  will 
read  the  page  with  the  interest  of  an  only  and 
beloved  daughter,  and  then  turn  back  tearfully 
to  the  sad,  sweet  scenes,  which  she  cannot  yet 


TRIAL    ON    TRIAL.  209 

have  entirely  forgotten.  For  her  sake,  shall  a 
few  passages  be  written  down,  that  may,  per- 
haps, recall  lost  fragments  of  the  picture  now 
in  her  heart. 

"  As  soon  as  you  left  the  house,  I  ran  to 
your  dressing-room,  and  watched  you  from  the 
window.  But  you  did  not  look  up — oh,  how  I 
wished  you  would  !  Then  I  hastened  to  the 
back  verandah,  and  caught  one  last  glimpse^of 
you  through  the  trees  ;  *  *  and  I  gave  vent 
to  my  feelings  in  a  flood  of  tears. 

"  Then  the  children  came  around  me,  ask- 
ing to  go  to  the  wharf,  and  the  women  looked 
their  wishes;  and  though  I  said  'no,'  to  the 
little  ones,  I  could  not  deny  the  others.  After 
they  were  gone,  I  took  all  three  of  our  darlings 
into  your  own  little  room,  told  them  why  you 
had  gone  away,  and  asked  Abby  Ann  and 
Adoniram,  if  they  wished  me  to  ask  God  to 
take  care  of  papa,  while  he  was  gone.  They 
said  '  yes ;'  and  so  I  put  Elnathan  down  on 
the  floor  to  play,  and,  kneeling  beside  the  other 
two,  committed  you  and  ourselves  to  the  care 
of  our  Heavenly  Father."  After  mentioning 
the  return  of  the  Burman  women  from  the 
wharf,  she  speaks  of  other  prayers ;  and  in 
this  connection,  adds,  "I  never  heard  more 
appropriate  petitions  from  the  native  Chris- 


210  MEMOIR   OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

tians.  They  prayed  for  you,  for  me,  and  for 
the  children,  in  just  such  a  manner  as  I  wished 
them  to  pray.  Mah  Klah  and  Mah  Tee  could 
scarce  proceed  for  sobs  and  tears.  Oh  !  who 
would  not  prefer  the  sincere,  disinterested  love 
of  these  simple,  warm-hearted  Christians,  to 
all  the  applause  and  adulation  of  the  world,  or 
even  to  the  more  refined,  but  too  often  selfish 
reg«.rd  of  our  equals  in  mental  cultivation  and 
religious  knowledge  !  Ko  Manboke  says,  he 
has  only  one  request  to  make,  and  that  is,  if 
you  must  die,  he  begs  you  will  come  back  to 
Maulmain,  and  die  in  the  midst  of  the  disci- 
ples, who  love  you  so  dearly." 

"  How  sweet  is  the  thought  that,  when  you 
go  into  the  presence  of  God,  you  always  pray 
for  me,  and  for  our  dear  children !  We  have 
family  worship  mornings,  in  the  sleeping-room. 
Abby  and  Pwen*  kneel,  one  on  each  side  of 
me,  and  after  I  have  read  and  prayed  I  teach 
them  the  Lord's  prayer.  I  make  them  repeat 
it  distinctly,  only  two  or  three  words  at  a  time. 
They  both  sit  at  the  table  with  me,  Pwen 
occupying  his  beloved  father's  place.  But 
these  things  do  not  beguile  my  loneliness. 


#  Pwen,  a  flower.    A  name  given  to  Adoniram  by 
the  natives. 


TRIAL    ON   TRIAL.  211 

Oh,  when  shall  I  see  you  again,  here,  in  your 
old  seat  ?" 

"  Your  little  daughter  and  I  have  been  pray- 
ing for  you  this  evening.  She  is  now  in  bed, 
and  I  am  sitting  by  my  study-table,  where  I 
spend  all  my  time  after  evening  worship,  except 
what  is  devoted  to  the  children.  I  wish,  my 
love,  that  you  would  pray  for  one  object  in 
particular — that  I  may  be  assisted  in  commu- 
nicating divine  truth  to  the  minds  of  these 
little  immortals.  *  *  *  At  times  the  sweet 
hope  that  you  will  soon  return,  restored  to 
perfect  health,  buoys  up  my  spirit ;  but  per- 
haps you  will  find  it  necessary  to  go  farther, 
a  necessity  from  which  I  cannot  but  shrink 
with  doubt  and  dread ;  or  you  may  come  back 
only  to  die  with  me.  This  last  agonizing 
thought  crushes  me  down  in  overwhelming 
sorrow.  I  hope  I  do  not  feel  unwilling,  that 
our  Heavenly  Father  should  do  as  He  thinks 
best  with  us ;  but  my  heart  shrinks  from  the 
prospect  of  living  in  this  sinful,  dark,  friend- 
less world,  without  you.  But  I  feel  that  I  do 
wrong  to  anticipate  sorrows.  God  has  pro- 
mised strength  only  for  to-day  ;  and,  in  infinite 
mercy,  He  shuts  the  future  from  our  view. 
I  know  that  there  is  small  ground  for  hope — 
few  ever  recover  from  your  disease  ;  but  it  may 


212  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

be,  that  God  will  restore  you  to  health,  for  the 
sake  of  His  suffering  cause.  I  do  not  deserve 
it ;  and  I  have  often  wondered  that  I  should 
have  been  so  singularly  blessed,  as  to  possess 
that  heart,  which  is  far  more  precious  than  all 
the  world  beside.  But  the  most  satisfactory 
view  of  our  condition  is  to  look  away  to  that 
blissful  world,  where  separations  are  unknown. 
There,  my  beloved  Judson,  we.  shall  surely 
meet  each  other ;  and  we  shall  also  meet  many 
loved  ones,  who  have  gone  before  us  to  that 
haven  of  rest." 

"  After  worship  at  the  chapel,  several  of  the 
native  Christians  came  in ;  and  we  all  mingled 
our  tears  together.  They  each  in  turn  com- 
mitted their  absent  pastor  (father,  they  called 
you)  to  God,  and  prayed  for  your  restoration 
to  health,  and  speedy  return  to  us,  with  a  fer- 
vour, which  I  felt  at  the  time  must  prevail." 

And  so  it  did.  The  husband,  father,  and 
pastor  returned  from  his  long  absence,  much 
improved  in  health  ;  so  much  so,  that  before  the 
close  of  the  year,  Mrs.  Judson  thus  speaks  of 
him  to  her  American  friends  :  "  My  husband 
preached  on  the  last  four  Lord's-days ;  and  oh, 
how  happy  I  am  to  be  able  to  say  that  he  has 
received  no  material  injury  from  thus  using 
his  voice.  After  months  of  anxiety,  how  de- 


TRIAL    ON   TRIAL.  213 

lightful  to  find  cause  to  hope  that  his  life  will 
be  spared  for  many  years,  to  bless  his  family 
and  the  poor,  perishing  Burmans." 

This  year  was  so  much  broken  by  the  cares 
and  anxieties,  growing  out  of  her  husband's 
illness,  that  she  could  scarce  be  expected  to 
follow  her  literary  pursuits  to  the  same  advan- 
tage as  formerly ;  but  yet  they  were  by  no 
means  neglected.  She  commenced  a  transla- 
tion of  Bunyan's  Pilgrim's  Progress ;  and  in 
November  she  says,  "  I  am  now  engaged  in 
writing  questions  on  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles, 
in  Burmese,  for  the  use  of  Bible  Classes  and 
Sabbath  Schools.  We  have  a  Sabbath  School, 
numbering  nearly  a  hundred  children,  and  a 
Bible  Class  of  twenty  adults." 

In  another  letter  she  says,  "  My  little  family 
occupies  nearly  all  my  time ;  and  if  I  have  a 
leisure  hour,  now  and  then,  I  feel  that  it  ought 
to  be  devoted  to  the  instruction  of  the  ignorant 
native  Christians,  or  the  still  more  ignorant 
and  degraded  heathen." 

The  same  willingness  to  take  the  place  in 
her  Master's  vineyard — pointed  out  by  his 
finger,  which  influenced  her  in  the  study  of 
the  Peguan,  was  manifest  through  life.  In  the 
savage  haunts  of  the  Karen  wilderness,  with 
listening  hundreds  at  her  feet,  or  teaching  the 


214  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

infant-lisper  on  her  knee  to  raise  its  little 
heart  to  heaven — poring  over  her  books  till 
hand  and  head  both  ached  from  weariness,  or 
whispering  the  magic  words,  which  could 
cheer  her  husband's  heart  in  the  midst  of  his 
toilsome  labours — teaching,  counselling,  and 
praying,  surrounded  by  dusky  faces  and  darker 
natures,  or  turning  to  the  simplest  and  com- 
monest domestic  duty — to  her,  it  was  all  the 
same.  "  Whatever  her  hand  found  to  do"  was 
done  earnestly,  and  with  ready  will.  There  is 
many  a  fashionable  English  lady,  from  whose 
heart  her  words  cannot  depart,  till  the  heart 
has  ceased  its  beatings ;  and  her  missionary 
sisters  will  long  remember  the  low  pleadings 
of  her  voice,  in  the  social  prayer-meeting,  and 
the  maternal  gatherings  instituted  for  them- 
selves and  their  children.  It  was  for  a  meet- 
ing of  this  kind,  that  the  following  sweet 
hymn,  which  afterwards  appeared  in  the  Mo- 
ther's Journal,  was  written : 

"MOTHER'S  LITANY. 

"  Lamb  of  God,  enthroned  on  high, 
Look  on  us  with  pitying  eye, 
While  we  raise  our  earnest  cry, 

For  our  babes,  to  thee. 


TRIAL    ON   TRIAL.  215 

Once  thy  followers  infants  spurned, 
But  thy  bosom  o'er  them  yearned, 
Nor  from  Canaan's  daughter  turned 
Thy  all-pitying  eye. 

Thou  did'st  give  our  spirits  rest, 
When  with  sin  and  grief  oppressed, 
In  thy  gentle,  loving  breast — 

Shelter,  then,  our  babes. 

Breath  divine  they  breathe,  and  wear 
God's  own  image  ;  yet  they  bear 
Sin  and  guilt,  a  fearful  share, — 
Pity  them,  we  pray. 

Guide  and  guard  them  here  below, 

As  through  dangerous  paths  they  go, — 

Be  their  joy  'mid  earthly  woe, 

Thou,  their  Heavenly  Friend. 

When,  to  call  thy  children  home, 
Robed  in  glory,  thou  shalt  come, 
For  these  little  ones  make  room, 

Lamb  of  God,  we  pray." 

About  the  middle  of  the  ensuing  year,  the 
children,  now  four  in  number,  were  seized 
with  the  whooping-cough,  from  which  they 
suffered  three  or  four  months ;  and  before  they 
entirely  recovered  three  of  them  were  attacked 
by  the  disease  of  the  bowels,  so  alarming  in  a 
tropical  climate.  During  these  troubles,  the 
19  


216  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

mother  was  suddenly  prostrated ;  and,  so  low 
was  she  brought,  that  her  friends  expected 
momentarily  to  see  her  close  her  eyes  in  her 
last  sleep.  She  afterward  says,  "  The  dear 
sisters  of  the  mission  came  to  give  me  a  last 
look  and  pressure  of  the  hand,  for  I  was  too 
far  gone  to  speak.  The  poor  children,  three 
of  whom  were  ill,  were  sent  away ;  and  my 
husband  devoted  his  whole  time  to  taking  care 
of  me.  I  felt  sure  that  my  hour  of  release 
from  this  world  had  come — that  my  Master 
was  calling  me ;  and  blessed  be  God  !  I  was 
entirely  willing  to  leave  all,  and  go  to  him." 

As  soon  as  she  had  gained  strength  enough 
to  be  removed,  she  was  invited  to  take  up  her 
residence,  in  the  family  of  Capt.  Impey,  an 
English  officer,  who  was  passing  the  hot  season 
on  the  sea-shore  at  Amherst.  The  invitation, 
which  included  her  children,  was  gratefully 
accepted,  and  she  left  home,  taking  with  her 
the  three  little  ones  that  were  ill.  For  a  time 
all  seemed  to  be  gradually  improving ;  but  she 
was  finally  attacked  with  cold,  followed  by 
fever  ;  and  at  the  end  of  the  season,  both  her- 
self and  children  returned  to  Maulmain,  in  a 
worse  condition  than  they  left  it.  The  physi- 
cians now  pronounced  the  mother  and  two 
elder  children  to  be  in  imminent  danger,  and 


TRIAL    ON    TRIAL.  217 

recommended  a  sea-voyage,  as  affording  the 
only  hope  of  recovery.  The  whole  family 
accordingly  took  passage  in  a  vessel  bound  for 
Calcutta;  but  by  this  time  the  South-west 
Monsoon  was  raging,  and  the  voyage,  although 
as  pleasant  as  circumstances  would  admit,  was 
tempestuous,  and  for  invalids,  exceedingly  un- 
comfortable. 

"  We  had  been  out  only  four  days,"  says 
Mrs.  Judson,  "  when  we  struck  on  shoals,  and 
for  about  twenty  minutes  were  expecting  to 
see  the  large,  beautiful  vessel  a  wreck ;  and 
then  all  on  board  must  perish,  or  at  best  take 
refuge  in  a  small  boat,  exposed  to  the  dreary 
tempests.  I  shall  never  forget  my  feelings,  as 
I  looked  over  the  side  of  the  vessel  that  night, 
on  the  dark  ocean,  and  fancied  ourselves  with 
our  poor  sick,  and  almost  dying  children, 
launched  on  its  stormy  waves.  The  captain 
tacked  as  soon  as  possible,  and  the  tide  rising 
at  the  time,  we  were  providentially  delivered 
from  our  extreme  peril."  During  this  scene 
Mrs.  Judson  evinced  her  characteristic  thought- 
fulness  and  presence  of  mind ;  for  while  con- 
fusion reigned  throughout  the  ship,  she  crept 
from  her  berth,  and  with  her  own  weak  hand, 
filled  a  small  trunk  with  articles  which  would 


218  MEMOIR   OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

be  necessary,    if    they   were   driven  to  take 
refuge  in  the  boat. 

On  reaching  their  destination,  it  was  thought 
advisable  to  take  a  house  at.  Serampore,  in 
preference  to  Calcutta;  but  even  here  she 
says,  "  The  weather  was  very  unfavourable. 
At  one  time  it  was  so  oppressively  hot,  that 
we  could  scarcely  breathe,  and  the  next  hour 
the  cold,  bleak  winds  would  come  whistling 
in,  at  the  high  windows,  completely  chilling 
the  poor  little  invalids."  These  circumstances 
were  certainly  far  from  favourable  to  recovery, 
and  medical  advisers  urged  the  necessity  of 
putting  to  sea  again.  Inquiries  were  accord- 
ingly made  concerning  vessels  bound  for  the 
Isle  of  France,  but  they  were  at  first  very  un- 
satisfactory. Mrs.  Judson  continues  her  nar- 
rative :  "  That  same  day,  Captain  Hamlin,  of 
the  ship  Ramsay,  called  to  see  us.  He  was  a 
pious  man,  whom  we  had  before  seen;  and 
though  he  had  not  the  slightest  intimation  of 
our  wish  to  go  to  the  Mauritius,  he  offered  us  a 
passage  to  that  place,  and  thence  to  Maulmain. 
His  ship  was  to  sail  in  ten  days."  Still,  in 
consideration  of  the  length  of  the  voyage,  the 
time  it  would  consume,  and  its  tediousness 
during  the  stormy  season,  they  hesitated ;  but 
only  for  a  short  time.  "  Dear  little  Enna" 


TRIAL    ON   TRIAL.  219 

(Elnathan)  "had  an  alarming  relapse,  and 
Pwen  and  Abby  were  growing  worse  daily. 
Henry's  symptoms  appeared  more  favourable ; 
but  I  was  extremely  weak,  and  finally,  in  addi- 
tion to  all  the  rest,  I  was  again  attacked  with 
my  old  complaint.  You  may  fancy,  in  some 
degree,  what  a  fatiguing  time  my  poor  husband 
must  have  had,  watching  over  us  all,  night  and 
day."  These  circumstances  did  not  admit  of 
unnecessary  delay.  The  ship  was  on  the  point 
of  sailing ;  and  Mrs.  Judson,  with  her  first 
slight  accession  of  strength,  was  obliged  to 
hasten  to  Calcutta,  to  make  some  preparations, 
which  required  her  personal  superintendence. 
She  continues  : — "  Accordingly  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  23d,  I  went  with  the  two  older 
children,  Abby  and  Pwen,  on  board  the  boat. 
Henry  was  as  well  as  he  had  been  for  weeks, 
and  we  had  never  thought  him  dangerous.  As 
for  Elnathan,  we  considered  him  almost  well. 
While  in  Calcutta,  the  two  children  with  me 
grew  worse ;  Pwen,  in  addition  to  his  previous 
illness,  being  seized  with  a  fever,  which  I 
feared  would  prove  fatal.  I  engaged  a  skilful 
surgeon,  and  he  soon  succeeded  in  reducing 
the  fever ;  but  he  gave  me  little  encourage- 
ment in  either  of  their  cases.  He  said  a  sea- 
voyage  was  their  only  chance,  and  if  we  could 
19* 


220  MEMOIR   OF    SARAH    B.   JUDSON. 

manage  to  keep  Pwen  from  getting  worse,  until 
the  ship  should  sail,  it  was  the  utmost  we  could 
expect. 

During  these  trials,  I  heard  from  Serampore 
every  day,  and  the  accounts  were  for  some 
time  favourable.  But  on  the  morning  of  the 
29th,  my  husband's  note,  dated  the  day  before, 
said  that  Henry  was  not  so  well,  and  that 
Elnathan  was  ill  of  fever,  apparently  from 
having  taken  sudden  cold.  I  determined  to 
leave,  at  once,  for  Serampore ;  but  on  inquiry, 
I  ascertained,  that  the  tide  would  not  turn  till 
six  o'clock  in  the  evening.  My  friends  begged 
me  to  wait  till  the  next  morning,  but  I  could 
not  listen  to  their  entreaties,  though  I  appre- 
hended no  real  danger  in  the  cases  of  my 
absent  little  ones.  At  sunset,  I  put  Abby  and 
Pwen  to  bed  inside  the  boat,  and  took  my 
dreary  watch  outside.  Oh,  what  a  long  and 
desolate  night  that  was  to  me  !  It  was  at  the 
neap  tides ;  and  for  the  last  four  or  five  miles 
the  men  were  unable  to  row,  but  pushed  the 
boat  up  the  stream  with  long  bamboos.  The 
moon  was  setting,  and  I  shall  never  forget  the 
melancholy  feelings  which  crept  over  me,  while 
I  watched  the  long  shadows  of  the  trees  on  the 
darkening  waters.  My  anxiety  was  heightened 
by  hearing  poor  Pwen  cough  frequently,  as 


TRIAL    ON    TRIAL.  221 


though  he  had  taken  cold.  The  fear,  that  the 
children  might  be  injured  by  their  exposure, 
induced  me  to  oppose  every  proposition  to  an- 
chor, and  also  to  urge  the  boatmen  onward  by 
every  means  in  my  power.  At  two  o'clock  we 
reached  home.  My  dear  husband  met  me  at 
the  door,  and  as  he  embraced  me,  said,  'Oh, 
my  love,  you  have  come  to  the  house  of 
death !' 

'  What ! — oh,  what  is  it  ?' 

'  Dear  little  Henry  is  dying.' 

I  flew  to  him,  but  oh,  how  changed !  I  had 
left  him  a  bright  little  boy,  running  about  the 
floor,  with  cheeks  far  from  having  lost  their 
plumpness.  Now,  his  eyes  were  dim,  his  cheek 
colourless,  and  his  little  form  so  emaciated, 
that,  in  the  sincerity  of  my  heart,  I  involun- 
tarily exclaimed,  ''Can  this  be  Henry!'  Still 
I  was  relieved  to  find,  that  he  was  not  actually 
in  the  agonies  of  the  death-struggle.  He  ap- 
peared so  intelligent,  that  I  still  had  hope. 

'  Drink  !  drink  !'  he  called  out. 

I  prepared  him  a  little  wine  and  water,  and 
was  pleased  to  find  that  his  stomach  did  not 
reject  it,  as  it  had  rejected  everything  during 
the  last  twenty-four  hours,  whether  food  or 
medicine.  But  when  I  beheld  his  countenance 
by  the  light  of  day,  in  the  morning,  I  saw  that 


222  MEMOIR   OP    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

he  could  not  live.  During  all  this  time,  poor 
Elnathan  was  lying  in  a  violent  fever,  with  his 
head  shaved,  and  a  plaster  on  his  chest.  Truly, 
my  dear  sister,  we  felt  that  the  hand  of  God 
was  heavy  upon  us.  But  we  bowed  to  His 
will,  not  daring  to  murmur.  In  the  forenoon, 
while  lying  in  his  swing-cot,  Henry  looked  at  me 
most  affectionately,  and  stretched  out  his  little 
hands  for  me  to  take  him.  Oh,  how  glad  I 
was  that  I  came  up  that  night !  If  I  had  wait- 
ed till  the  next  day,  he  would  not  have  recog- 
nized me."  During  the  day,  the  little  sufferer 
endured  violent  convulsions,  but  he  lingered 
on  till  evening.  She  continues,  "  I  had  my 
cot  placed  so  that  my  head  was  close  to  his ; 
and  as  I  had  been  up  all  the  night  previous, 
and  was  still  far  from  well,  I  soon  fell  asleep. 
Mr.  Judson  sat  watching  him,  on  the  other 
side.  The  first  that  I  heard  was  a  soft  whis- 
per, '  Henry,  my  dear  son  Henry  !'  The  dear 
little  creature  opened  his  eyes,  and  looked  into 
his  papa's  face,  with  all  the  intelligence  and 
earnestness  he  was  wont  in  days  of  health. 
But  suddenly  his  countenance  changed — his 
papa  spoke  to  me — I  looked  at  him — there 
was  one  gasp,  and  then  all  was  over.  The 
body  had  ceased  from  suffering — the  spirit  was 
at  rest  in  the  bosom  of  Jesus." 


TRIAL    ON    TRIAL.  223 

Both  parents  had  seen  much  of  sorrow  be- 
fore, but  it  is  crime,  not  sorrow,  that  renders 
the  bosom  callous ;  and  the  existence  of  the 
past  did  not  blunt  the  sharp  point  of  present 
anguish.  And  even  now,  the  survivor,  who 
has  buried  his  dead  at  Rangoon,  Amherst, 
Maulmain,  and  St.  Helena,  has  many  a  sweet, 
mournful  remembrance  to  give  to  "  little  Henry 
of  Serampore." 

"  He  sleeps,"  says  the  mother,  "  in  the  Mis- 
sion burial-ground,  where  moulders  the  dust  of 
Carey,  Marshman,  and  Ward.  We  buried 
him  at  evening ;  and,  while  weeping  at  the 
grave,  I  scarcely  knew  whether  my  tears  fell 
faster  for  Henry  or  Elnathan. 

"  Three  days  after,  we  left  Calcutta,  and  on 
the  16th,  went  on  board  the  Ramsay."  The 
Monsoon  was  drawing  to  a  close,  and  the 
storms  were  more  dangerous  than  during  the 
months  previous.  Frequent  tempests,  too  sud- 
den to  allow  of  preparation,  placed  them  in 
great  peril.  Under  date  of  Sept.  4th,  Mrs. 
Judson  continues  her  letter  : — "  Could  you 
now  look  on  our  dismasted  vessel  you  would 
indeed  say,  she  is  a  '  ship  in  distress.'  For 
the  last  three  days,  we  have  had  the  most 
frightful  squalls  I  ever  experienced ;  and  yes- 
terday two  top-masts,  a  top-gallant  mast,  and 


224  MEMOIR   OF    SARAH   B.    JUDSON. 

the  jib-boom,  with  all  their  sails,  were  torn 
away,  causing  a  tremendous  crash.  For  the 
two  last  nights,  I  have  not  closed  my  eyes  to 
sleep,  and  I  find  it  quite  impossible  to  sleep 
now.  I  have,  therefore,  taken  my  pen,  though 
the  vessel  rolls  so,  that  I  fear  my  writing  will 
be  quite  illegible.  Do  not  infer  from  anything 
I  have  said,  that  I  am  suffering  from  terror ;  my 
wakefulness  has  been  occasioned  only  by  bodily 
discomfort,  arising  from  the  violent  tossing  of 
the  vessel.  I  thank  God,  that  I  feel  perfectly 
calm  and  resigned ;  and  I  can  leave  myself 
and  my  dear  family  in  His  hands,  with  a  feel- 
ing of  perfect  peace  and  composure." 

This  voyage,  boisterous  as  it  was,  proved 
beneficial,  and  was  seconded  by  the  bland  airs 
of  the  Isle  of  France ;  so  that  the  family  at 
last  returned  to  Maulmain,  bearing  with  them 
only  one  invalid.  Poor  little  "  Pwen"  was  still 
a  sufferer ;  and  although  he  was  considered 
convalescent,  it  was  a  long  time  before  he  fully 
recovered. 

After  these  severe  trials,  Mrs.  Judson  re- 
turned to  her  accustomed  labours,  walking  in 
the  same  toilsome,  unostentatious  path  as  be- 
fore— writing,  translating,  teaching,  advising, 
reproving,  encouraging,  and  praying.  Thus, 
years  passed  by,  scarce  noted,  except  upon  the 


TRIAL    ON    TRIAL.  225 

page  of  the  Recording  Angel.  Some  of  the 
literary  performances  of  this  closing  part  of 
her  life,  are  thus  briefly  mentioned  in  the 
Obituary  Notice,  by  her  husband  : — "  Her 
translation  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  Part  1st, 
into  Burmese,  is  one  of  the  best  pieces  of 
composition  which  we  have  yet  published. 
Her  translation  of  Mr.  Boardman's  '  Dying 
Father's  Advice,'  has  become  one  of  our  stand- 
ard tracts ;  and  her  hymns  in  Burmese,  about 
twenty  in  number,  are  probably  the  best  in 
our  Chapel  Hymn*  Book — a  work  which  she 
was  appointed  by  the  Mission  to  edit.  Beside 
these  works,  she  published  four  volumes  of 
Scripture  Questions,  which  are  in  constant 
use  in  our  Sabbath  Schools."  It  has  been  re- 
marked that  the  translation  of  the  Pilgrim's 
Progress  into  an  Eastern  tongue,  is  "  a  work 
worth  living  for,  if  it  were  one's  only  perform- 
ance." It  was  indeed  a  laborious  work — under 
the  circumstances,  exceedingly  laborious  ;  and 
is  performed  as  only  one,  who  knew  and  loved 
the  language  as  she  did,  assisted  by  her  native 
genius,  could  perform  it.  She  also  contributed 
some  valuable  articles  to  the  Burmese  news- 
papers ;  and  in  the  absence  of  Mr.  Stevens, 
its  able  conductor,  she  was  two  or  three  times 
called  upon  to  take  the  editorial  charge  of  it. 


226  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.   JUDSON. 

Her  Sabbath  Cards,  with  the  breathings  of  her 
devotional  and  poetic  spirit  yet  warm  upon 
their  surface,  (her  last,  dying  gift  to  the  Bur- 
man  church,)  circulated  from  hand  to  hand ; 
her  Scripture  questions  furnish  hundreds  of 
bewildered  minds  with  the  clue  to  many  a 
fountain,  bubbling  over  with  the  fresh  waters 
of  truth  and  wisdom ;  and  her  sweet  hymns 
are  heard  wherever  the  living  God  is  worship- 
ped, throughout  this  heathen  land.  The  care 
of  a  very  young  and  increasing  family,  where 
only  the  most  inefficient  service  can  be  pro- 
cured, would  seem  quite  enough  to  occupy  all 
of  a  mother's  attention  ;  but,  how  or  when, 
none  knew,  she  managed  to  find  many  a  mo- 
ment, which  future  time  will  multiply  to  years 
of  usefulness.  The  inordinate  desire  for  post- 
humous fame,  which  is  made  so  poetical  by 
those  who  wear  out  their  lives  in  efforts  to 
win  it,  is  really  scarce  less  contemptible,  than 
any  other  utterly  selfish  passion — vanity,  or 
even  avarice.  But  it  is  a  glorious  thought  to 
the  Christian,  that  he  may  still  guide  the  faul- 
tering  footsteps  of  a  brother,  and  add  jewels 
to  his  Master's  crown,  when  his  voice  is  hushed 
in  the  grave,  and  his  mouldering  hand  lies  as 
powerless  as  the  dust  with  which  it  mingles. 
And  doubly  sweet  must  be  the  consolations  of 


TRIAL    ON    TRIAL.  227 

the  dying-bed,  when  the  glad  prospect  has  not 
been  purchased  at  the  expense  of  lowlier  daily 
duties.  Such  duties  we  have  seen  that  Mrs. 
Judson  never  neglected,  and  even  in  life  she 
reaped  the  sweet  fruit  of  her  toils. 

"  None  knew  her  but  to  love  her, 
None  named  her  but  to  praise," 

is  perhaps  the  shortest  mode  of  expressing  the 
sentiments,  that  are  heard  in  various  forms, 
from  many  a  lip ;  and  this  estimate  is,  by  no 
means,  confined  to  her  own  countrywomen. 
She  avoided  society,  because  it  interfered  with 
important  pursuits,  and  not  from  any  approach 
to  ascetism ;  but  she  still  had  warm  friends 
beyond  the  pleasant  missionary  circle.  This 
appreciation  and  love,  however,  was  not  her 
sweetest  reward.  In  April,  1844,  she  thus 
writes,  "  The  state  of  religion  is  now  very  in- 
teresting in  the  Burman  church.  It  would  do 
your  heart  good  to  look  in  upon  our  little 
circle  of  praying  Burman  females.  So  humble, 
so  devout,  so  willing  to  confess  their  faults 
before  God  and  before  one  another,  that  I 
sometimes  think  Christians,  in  a  Christian 
land,  might  well  copy  after  them.  I  think 
they  do  strive  to  walk  in  the  footsteps  of  our 
20 


228  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

blessed  Saviour.  The  study  of  the  Scriptures 
and  social  prayer  seem  to  be  greatly  blessed  to 
their  souls.  Some  of  them  have  formed  them- 
selves into  a  Bible  Class,  and  meet  with  me 
once  a  week,  for  the  purpose  of  studying  the 
Scriptures.  They  are  now  examining  the 
'  Life  of  Christ,'  with  '  Questions,'  which  I 
prepared  on  the  work  some  years  ago.  I  think 
it  does  my  own  soul  good,  thus  to  ponder  over 
the  life  of  our  blessed  Lord.  This  Bible  Class 
has  increased,  from  about  five  to  upwards  of 
fifteen,  within  the  last  few  months,  and  I  see 
no  signs  of  the  number's  diminishing.  Some 
of  them  are  quite  elderly  women,  with  gray 
hairs.  You  would  be  pleased  to  see  them, 
with  their  spectacles  on,  sitting  in  a  circle, 
reading  the  life  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and 
conversing  with  each  other,  respecting  their 
duty.  One  of  them,  upwards  of  seventy  years 
old,  amused  me  a  few  days  ago,  by  saying  she 
was  the  same  age  of  my  little  daughter  Abby- 
Ann.  I  asked  her  what  she  meant  by  that. 
She  replied  that  she  was  converted  the  year 
that  Abby-Ann  was  born,  and  it  was  not  till 
then  that  she  began  to  live." 

In  the  last  of  her  letters  that  I  have  in  my 
possession,  she  says,  "  It  is  nineteen  years,  last 
month,  since  I  parted  with  you,  and  bade  adieu 


TRIAL    ON    TRIAL.  229 

to  my  native  land ;  and  I  can  say,  with  un- 
feigned gratitude  to  God,  that  amid  all  the 
vicissitudes  through  which  I  have  been  called 
to  pass,  I  have  never,  for  one  moment,  regret- 
ted that  I  had  entered  the  missionary  field. 
We  are  not  weary  of  our  work — it  is  in  our 
hearts  to  live  and  die  among  these  people.  I 
feel  conscious  of  being  a  most  unworthy,  and 
unprofitable  servant ;  and  I  often  wonder  that 
my  life  has  been  spared,  while  so  many,  to 
human  view  so  much  more  competent  than 
myself,  have  been  cut  down.  '  Even  so, 
Father,  for  so  it  seemeth  good  in  Thy  sight.'  " 
These  nineteen  years  had,  of  necessity, 
wrought  many  changes  ;  but  they  were  like  the 
changes  which  autumn  perfects  in  the  fruit- 
buds  of  spring.  The  eye  was  not  so  full  of 
vivacity  as  formerly  ;  and  there  was  at  times  a 
pensive  drooping  of  the  lid,  which  spoke  of 
familiarity  with  tears ;  but  they  were  not  tears 
to  dim  the  centred  light  of  a  quiet,  serene — I 
had  almost  said  holy — happiness.  The  cheek 
had  lost  some  of  its  roundness,  and  the  skin 
its  fairness ;  but  the  beauty  of  the  ripening 
spirit  had  gradually  stolen  out  upon  the  face, 
and  none  could  regret  the  exchange.  The 
step  was  not  quite  so  elastic  as  in  former  days, 
but  it  had  gained  in  freedom  and  stateliness ; 


230  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

and  though  the  figure  exhibited  none  of  the 
fragility,  sometimes  mistaken  for  grace  of  out- 
line and  proportion,  there  was  more  than 
enough  to  compensate,  in  the  full,  healthful 
development,  seen  much  oftener  in  the  women 
of  England  than  those  of  America.  The 
fresh-hearted  maiden  was  transformed  into  the 
wife  and  mother ; — the  teacher  of  little  bright- 
cheeked  New-England  girls,  was  the  guide  of 
gray-haired  heathen  women,  blinded  by  idol- 
atry ;  but  she  was  fresh-hearted  still.  Disap- 
pointment had  passed  over  her,  but  it  had  left 
no  blight ;  sorrow  had  wrung  tears  from  her 
eyes,  but  they  had  fallen  back  upon  her  spirit, 
a  fertilizing  dew ;  trials  had  risen  in  her  path, 
like  flames,  to  scorch  and  wither>  but  she 
meekly  bowed  her  heart  to  the  Hand  that  sent 
them,  and  so  they  consumed  only  the  alloy, 
and  passed  away,  leaving  the  gold  purified  and 
burnished ;  and  the  death  of  beloved  ones  had 
only  served  to  unlock  a  door  between  her  soul 
and  Heaven.  Since  the  time  of  her  first 
child's  death,  her  course  had  been  gradually 
upward.  Her  life  had  increased  in  holiness, 
and  her  spirit  in  meekness  ;  for  she  had  grown 
familiar  with  the  one  spot,  where  the  unquiet 
human  soul  may  find  rest — deep  in  the  shadow 
of  the  Cross.  The  first  impulse  of  life,  in 


TRIAL    ON   TRIAL.  231 

the  spirit  of  the  young  Christian,  was,  as  the 
quick,  joyous  up-shooting  of  the  green  blade 
in  spring.  Next,  her  course  through  the  world 
was  shaped — the  ear  of  corn  was  fashioned, 
and  stood  in  the  field,  light,  graceful,  and  fresh 
in  summer  verdure.  But  at  length  it  began  to 
bow  beneath  the  weight  of  its  own  wealth,  the 
green  sheath  gradually  swelled  with  the  in- 
creasing richness  of  its  treasure ;  then  the 
grain  grew  golden  with  ripeness ;  and  angel- 
reapers  stood  ready  to  dissever  the  drooping 
stem,  and  bear  home  the  perfected  fruit  to 
the  harvest  of  glory. 


20* 


THE  CHRISTIAN'S  DEATH. 

"Her  suffering  ended  with  the  day, 

Tet  lived  she  at  its  close  ; 
And  breathed  the  long,  long  night  away, 

In  statue-like  repose. 

But  when  the  sun,  in  all  his  state. 

Illumed  the  eastern  skies, 
She  passed  through  Glory's  morning-gate. 

And  walked  in  Paradise  !" 

Aldrich. 


FTER  the  birth  of  a  child,  in  De- 
cember, 1844 — the  flaxen-haired, 
-Jf  sleek-shouldered  boy,  whose  large, 
melting  blue  eyes  follow  the  movements  of  my 
pen,  in  wondering-silence,  as  it  traces  these 
lines — Mrs.  Judson  visibly  declined.  She  had 
been  some  months  previous  to  this  event  suf- 
fering under  the  wasting  disease,  which  had 
followed  close  upon  her  track,  like  the  shadow 


THE  CHRISTIAN'S  DEATH. 


of  Death,  since  the  first  week  of  her  arrival 
in  Burmah.  But  she  had  endured  so  much, 
and  yet  lived,  had  so  successfully  resisted  so 
many  times,  that  it  seemed  scarce  possible 
the  place,  which  she  had  so  long  occupied  in 
the  dear  heaven  of  earthly  love,  must  be  for 
ever  darkened.  The  skill  of  the  physician 
was  taxed  to  its  utmost ;  the  kindness  of  the 
friend  and  the  tenderness  of  the  husband,  each 
strove  unweariedly,  in  turn  and  together — 
there  were  wet  eyes,  and  bended  knees,  and 
prayerful  voices,  but  the  Mighty  One  bent  not 
His  ear  :  His  own  wisdom  had  marked  for 
her  a  better  way  than  their  affection  had 
power  to  devise. 

A  kind  invitation  from  the  Commissioner  of 
Maulmain  to  accompany  his  family  in  an  ex- 
cursion down  the  coast,  gave  her,  for  several 
weeks,  the  benefit  of  sea-air ;  and  though  she 
speaks  of  her  sufferings  as  sometimes  inde- 
scribably severe,  during  this  voyage,  and  re- 
turned, paler,  thinner  and  weaker  than  she 
left,  it  was  still  hoped,  that  she  had  made  some 
little  improvement.  But  the  hope  soon  faded  ; 
she  declined  from  day  to  day — always  a  little 
thinner,  and  a  little  weaker,  but  cheerful  still — 
till  at  last  a  voyage  to  America  was  named,  as 
presenting  the  only  prospect  of  life.  To 


234  MEMOIR    OF   SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

America  !  the  land  of  her  birth,  and  the  home 
of  many  a  loved  one ;  where  parents,  broth- 
ers and  sisters  still  trod  the  soil,  and  where  her 
darling,  her  orphan  boy  might,  once  again,  be 
folded  to  her  bosom !  Oh,  should  she  visit 
dear,  Christian  America  once  more?  Yet 
she  could  not  leave  those  for  whom  she  had 
toiled  and  prayed,  during  twenty  years  of  exile, 
without  sadness.  Had  it  been  right,  she  would 
have  preferred  to  die  quietly  in  Burmah,  rather 
than  interrupt  her  husband's  labours ;  and  her 
heart  sunk  at  parting,  for  years,  if  not  for  life, 
with  the  most  helpless  of  her  babes — the  eldest 
of  the  three,  only  four  years  of  age.  But  duty 
demanded  the  sacrifice  ;  and  she  had  too  long 
been  obedient  to  this  voice,  to  think  of  oppo- 
sition now.  They  bore  her  to  the  ship,  while 
both  fair  and  dusky  faces  circled  round ;  and 
long  did  the  sound  of  those  loved,  farewell 
voices,  half-smothered  in  grief  and  choked 
with  tears,  dwell  upon  her  ear  and  heart. 
Near  the  Isle  of  France,  hope  of  final  recovery 
grew  so  strong,  that  it  became  almost  certainty, 
(as  much  certainty  as  ever  attends  the  pros- 
pects of  mortals,)  and  now  a  voice  from  poor, 
perishing  Burmah  seemed  calling  on  the  in- 
valid for  one  more  sacrifice.  She  dared  not 
go  back  herself,  but  there  seemed  no  longer  a 


THE  CHRISTIAN'S  DEATH.  235 

necessity  for  calling  her  husband  from  his  mis- 
sionary labour.  He  should  return  to  his  lonely 
home,  and  she,  with  her  children,  would  pur- 
sue a  way  as  lonely  toward  the  "  setting  sun." 
It  was  after  this  resolution  that  the  following 
lines,  the  last  words  ever  traced  by  her  fingers, 
were  penciled  on  a  scrap  of  broken  paper  : 


"  We  part  on  this  green  islet,  Love, 
Thou  for  the  Eastern  main, 

I,  for  the  setting  sun,  Love — 
Oh,  when  to  meet  again  ? 


My  heart  is  sad  for  thee,  Love, 
For  lone  thy  way  will  be ; 

And  oft  thy  tears  will  fall,  Love, 
For  thy  children  and  for  me. 


The  music  of  thy  daughter's  voice 
Thou'lt  miss  for  many  a  year ; 

And  the  merry  shout  of  thine  elder  boys, 
Thou'lt  list  in  vain  to  hear. 

When  we  knelt  to  see  our  Henry  die, 
And  heard  his  last  faint  moan, 

Each  wiped  the  tear  from  other's  eye — 
Now,  each  must  weep  alone. 


236  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

My  tears  fall  fast  for  thee,  Love, — 

How  can  I  say  farewell  ? 
But  go  ; — thy  God  be  with  thee,  Love, 

Thy  heart's  deep  grief  to  quell ! 

Yet  my  spirit  clings  to  thine,  Love, 

Thy  soul  remains  with  me, 
And  oft  we'll  hold  communion  sweet, 

O'er  the  dark  and  distant  sea. 

And  who  can  paint  our  mutual  joy, 
When,  all  our  wanderings  o'er, 

We  both  shall  clasp  our  infants  three, 
At  home,  on  Burmah's  shore. 

But  higher  shall  our  raptures  glow, 

On  yon  celestial  plain, 
When  the  loved  and  parted  here  below 

Meet,  ne'er  to  part  again. 

Then  gird  thine  armor  on,  Love, 

Nor  faint  thou  by  the  way, 
Till  Boodh  shall  fall,  and  Burmah's  sons 

Shall  own  Messiah's  sway." 

"  In  all  the  missionary  annals,"  says  the 
editor  of  the  New- York  Evangelist,  "there 
are  few  things  more  affecting  than  this.  Mrs. 
Judson's  beautiful  lines  remind  us  of  Bishop 
Heber's  verses  addressed  to  his  wife,  '  If  thou 


THE  CHRISTIAN'S  DEATH.  237 

vvert  by  my  side,  my  love ;'  but  they  are  supe- 
riour  in  deep,  natural  feeling.  How  exquisite 
the  references  to  her  husband's  anticipated 
loneliness !  '  The  music  of  thy  daughter's 
voice,  thou'lt  miss  for  many  a  year  !'  These 
verses  make  us  think  of  the  refinement,  the 
exquisite  sensibility,  the  tender  affection,  the 
deep  and  fervent  piety  of  many  a  missionary 
wife  among  the  heathen.  Some  of  the  most 
admirable  women  ever  born  have  laid  down 
their  lives  there,  and  some  are  still  shedding 
the  sweet  light  and  grace  of  their  holy,  patient 
example,  where  few,  besides  the  Saviour,  can 
see  and  appreciate  their  labours.  Oh,  great 
will  be  their  reward  in  heaven,  when  from 
every  ingredient  of  bitterness  and  trial,  in  their 
earthly  pilgrimage,  there  shall  spring  a  harvest 
of  eternal  blessedness  and  glory.  There  will 
be  no  dearer,  sweeter  remembrances  in  heaven, 
than  those  of  the  painful  earthly  trials  of  their 
self-denying,  desert-path  for  Christ.  Dr.  Jud- 
son  is  an  old  Christian  soldier,  but  he  never 
heard  a  more  animating  and  sustaining  word, 
amidst  his  conflicts,  than  the  parting  song  of 
his  wife.  It  will  ring  in  his  ear  till  he  dies, 
and  then  again  he  will  hear  her  angel-voice  in 
heaven  : — 


238  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

'  Then  gird  thine  armor  on,  Love, 

Nor  faint  thou  by  the  way, 
Till  Boodh  shall  fall,  and  Burmah's  sons 

Shall  own  Messiah's  sway !'  " 

But  the  anticipated  sacrifice  was  not  permit- 
ted. After  their  arrival  at  the  island,  she 
faded  very  perceptibly  ;  and  "  withering — still 
withering,"  was  once  again  borne  back  to  the 
ship.  And  now  we  have  the  tender  watching, 
the  grateful  smile,  the  bitter  anguish  of  antici- 
pated separation,  and  the  soothing  voice  of 
love,  winged  for  a  flight  to  heaven ;  and  above, 
and  around,  and  closely  blent  with  all — ming- 
ling, in  dreams,  in  prayers,  in  hourly  thoughts 
and  spirit-crushing  anticipations,  the  sweet, 
beautiful  resignation,  which  none  but  the  dis- 
ciple of  Christ  can  ever  understand.  Yet — 
must  those  blue  waves  indeed  become  the  rest- 
less sepulchre  of  her  precious  dust  1  It  was  a 
sad  thought ;  not  to  her  who  lay  in  her  sweet 
smiles,  waiting  the  withdrawal  of  her  breath ; 
but  to  him,  the  real  sufferer,  who  leaned  in 
uncomplaining  agony  over  her  pillow.  Yet 
this,  thank  God  !  is  spared.  Behold  yon  rocky 
island  !  we  make  for  port ! 

Whence  the  tears  in  those  young  eyes,  as 
the  small  feet  draw  near,  and  the  lips  are  bent 


THE  CHRISTIAN'S  DEATH.  239 

to  give  the  good-night  kiss?  and  what  means 
the  low,  mournful,  but  inimitably  sweet  mur- 
mur of  voices,  that  swells  and  dies  on  the 
evening  air  ?  Oh,  he  that  wept  but  at  a  broth- 
er's death,  must  look  with  peculiar  tenderness 
on  a  scene  like  this  ! — childhood's  last  farewell 
breathed  on  a  mother's  dying  lips. 

It  is  morning,  and  all  is  over.  The  white 
"  drapery  of  death  lies  quiet  on  the  bosom 
cold  ;"  and  the  wearied  mourner  sleeps  peace- 
fully, not  far  from  the  side  of  his  beloved  dead. 
And  now,  small  feet  are  again  astir,  and  rosy 
lips  grow  tremulous  with  sorrow.  Turn  we 
from  those  tears  and  sobs ;  for  it  is  a  mournful 
thing  to  look  upon  the  grief  of  little  hearts, 
for  the  first  time  wrung  by  the  bitter  anguish 
of  the  world,  and  with  but  the  voice  of  a  be- 
reaved father  to  soothe  them. 

Colours  are  floating  at  half-mast  in  various 
directions ;  men  bear  about  with  them  sad 
faces ;  and  yonder,  in  the  deep,  heavy  shadow 
of  that  overhanging-tree,  they  are  breaking  up 
the  earth  for  the  missionary's  grave.  Now, 
they  lower  the  coffin  over  the  vessel's  side,  and 
arrange  the  mourners.  They  are  blunt  men, 
but  of  a  true  and  generous  mould,  that  wear 
the  weeds  of  sympathetic  sorrow  ;  for  the  heart 
of  the  bold  seaman  is  throbbing  in  their  bo- 
21 


240  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

soms ;  and  they  recollect  a  fading  figure,  that 
used  sometimes  to  glide  along  the  deck  like  a 
spirit,  wearing  ever  a  beautiful  spirit-smile. 
Slowly  and  heavily  beat  the  oars,  and  slowly, 
boat  behind  boat,  moves  the  mournful  proces- 
sion to  the  shore.  The  waiting  crowd  falls 
back  in  silence  ;  and  tears  involuntarily  creep 
to  stranger-eyes,  as  they  look  upon  the  little 
group  about  to  leave  the  dearest  of  earthly 
treasures,  and  pursue  their  desolate  journey, 
widowed  and  orphaned.  Now,  softly  lift  her 
to  the  bier,  and  give  the  heavy  pall  into  gentle 
fingers  !  Let  the  sympathizing  holders  gather 
in  the  coffin's  track,  and  now — move  on ! 

"  Mournfully,  tenderly, 
Bear  onward  the  dead, 
Where  the  Warriour  has  lain, 
Let  the  Christian  be  laid  ; 
No  place  more  befitting, 
Oh,  Rock  of  the  sea  ! 
Never  such  treasure 
Was  hidden  in  thee  ! 


Mournfully,  tenderly, 
Solemn  and  slow — 
Tears  are  bedewing 
The  path,  as  ye  go  ; 


THE  CHRISTIAN'S  DEATH.  241 

Kindred  and  strangers 
Are  mourners  to-day  ; — 
Gently — so,  gently — 
Oh,  bear  her  away. 


Mournfully,  tenderly, 
Gaze  on  that  brow  ; 
Beautiful  is  it 
In  quietude  now  ! 
One  look — and  then  settle 
The  loved  to  her  rest, 
The  ocean  beneath  her, 
The  turf  on  her  breast. 


So  have  ye  buried  her — 
Up  ! — and  depart, 
To  life  and  to  duty, 
With  undismayed  heart ! 
Fear  not ;  for  the  love 
Of  the  stranger  will  keep 
The  casket  that  lies 
In  the  Rock  of  the  deep. 


Peace,  peace  to  thy  bosom, 
Thou  servant  of  God  ! 
The  vale  thou  art  treading, 
Thou  hast  before  trod  : 


242  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

Precious  dust  tbou  hast  laid 
By  the  Hopia  tree, 
And  treasure  as  precious 
In  the  Rock  of  the  sea."* 

With  the  shaded  grave  at  St.  Helena,  close 
I  my  tale  ;  having  reserved,  for  these  last  pages, 
some  of  the  reminiscences,  penned  soon  after 
his  deep  bereavement,  by  one  who  knew  and 
loved  the  sleeper  well. 

After  giving  a  brief  sketch  of  her  life,  the 
Obituary  thus  continues  :  "  Her  bereaved  hus- 
band is  the  more  desirous  of  bearing  this  testi- 
mony to  her  various  attainments,  her  labours 
and  her  worth,  from  the  fact  that  her  own 
unobtrusive  and  retiring  disposition  always  led 
her  to  seek  the  shade ;  as  well  as,  from  the 
fact  that  she  was  often  brought  into  comparison 
with  one  whose  life  and  character  was  uncom- 
monly interesting  and  brilliant.  The  Memoir 
of  his  first  beloved  wife  has  been  long  before 
the  public.  It  is,  therefore,  most  gratifying  to 
his  feelings  to  be  able  to  say  in  truth,  that  the 
subject  of  this  notice  was,  in  every  point  of 
natural  and  moral  excellence,  the  worthy  suc- 
cessor of  Ann  H.  Judson.  He  constantly 
thanks  God  that  he  has  been  blest  with  two  of 

*  H.  S.  Washbum. 


THE  CHRISTIAN'S  DEATH.  243 

the  best  of  wives  ;  he  deeply  feels  that  he  has 
not  improved  those  rich  blessings  as  he  ought ; 
and  it  is  most  painful  to  reflect,  that  from  the 
peculiar  pressure  of  the  missionary  life,  he  has 
sometimes  failed  to  treat  those  dear  beings 
with  that  consideration,  attention,  and  kind- 
ness, which  their  situation  in  a  foreign  heathen 
land  ever  demanded. 

But  to  show  the  forgiving  and  grateful  dis- 
position of  the  subject  of  this  sketch,  and 
somewhat  to  elucidate  her  character,  he  would 
add  that  a  few  days  before  her  death,  he  called 
her  children  to  her  bedside,  and  said,  in  their 
hearing,  '  I  wish,  my  love,  to  ask  pardon  for 
every  unkind  word  or  deed  of  which  I  have 
ever  been  guilty.  I  feel  that  I  have,  in  many 
instances,  failed  of  treating  you  with  that 
kindness  and  affection  which  you  have  ever 
deserved.'  *  Oh,'  said  she,  '  you  will  kill  me  if 
you  talk  so.  It  is  I  that  should  ask  pardon  of 
you ;  and  I  only  want  to  get  well,  that  I  may 
have  an  opportunity  of  making  some  return 
for  all  your  kindness,  and  of  showing  you  how 
much  I  love  you.' 

This  recollection  of  her   dying   bed,  leads 

me  to  say  a  few  words  relative  to  the  closing 

scenes  of  her  life.     After    her   prostration   at 

the   Isle   of    France,    where   we   spent   three 

21* 


244  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

weeks,  there  remained  but  little  expectation  of 
her  recovery.  Her  hope  had  long  been  fixed 
on  the  Rock  of  Ages,  and  she  had  been  in  the 
habit  of  contemplating  death  as  neither  distant 
nor  undesirable.  As  it  drew  near,  she  re- 
mained perfectly  tranquil.  No  shade  of  doubt, 
or  fear,  or  anxiety,  ever  passed  over  her  mind. 
She  had  a  prevailing  preference  to  depart  and 
be  with  Christ.  '  I  am  longing  to  depart,'  and 
'  what  can  I  want  besides  V  quoting  the  lan- 
guage of  a  familiar  hymn,  were  the  expres- 
sions which  revealed  the  spiritual  peace  and 
joy  of  her  mind  ;  yet,  at  times,  the  thought  of 
her  native  land,  to  which  she  was  approaching 
after  an  absence  of  twenty  years,  and  a  longing 
desire  to  see  once  more  her  son  George,  her 
parents,  and  the  friends  of  her  youth,  drew 
down  her  ascending  soul,  and  constrained  her 
to  say,  '  I  am  in  a  strait  betwixt  two,  — let 
the  will  of  God  be  done.' 

In  regard  to  her  children  she  ever  manifested 
the  most  surprising  composure  and  resignation, 
so  much  so,  that  I  was  once  induced  to  say, 
*  You  seem  to  have  forgotten  the  dear  little 
onss  we  have  left  behind.'  '  Can  a  mother 

forget' she   replied,   and   was   unable   to 

proceed.  During  her  last  days,  she  spent 
much  of  her  time  in  praying  for  the  early  con- 


'- 

THE  CHRISTIAN'S  DEATH.  245 

version  of  her  children.  May  her  living  and 
her  dying  prayers  draw  down  the  blessing  of 
God  on  their  bereaved  heads. 

On  our  passage  homeward,  as  the  strength 
of  Mrs.  J.  gradually  declined,  I  expected  to  be 
under  the  painful  necessity  of  burying  her  in 
the  sea.  But  it  was  so  ordered  in  Divine 
Providence,  that  when  the  indications  of  ap- 
proaching death  had  become  strongly  marked, 
the  ship  came  to  anchor  in  the  port  of  St. 
Helena..  For  three  days  she  continued  to  sink 
rapidly,  though  her  bodily  sufferings  were  not 
very  severe.  Her  mind  became  liable  to  wan- 
der, but  a  single  word  was  sufficient  to  recall 
and  steady  her  recollections.  On  the  evening 
of  the  31st  of  August,  she  appeared  to  be 
drawing  near  to  the  end  of  her  pilgrimage. 
The  children  took  leave  of  her  and  retired  to 
rest.  I  sat  alone  by  the  side  of  her  bed  during 
the  hours  of  the  night,  endeavoring  to  admin- 
ister relief  to  the  distressed  body  and  conso- 
lation to  the  departing  soul.  At  two  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  wishing  to  obtain  one  more 
token  of  recognition,  I  roused  her  attention, 
and  said,  '  Do  you  still  love  the  Saviour  ?' 
'  Oh  yes,'  she  replied,  '  I  ever  love  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ.'  I  said  again,  '  Do  you  still  love 
me?'  She  replied  in  the  affirmative,  by  a  pc- 


246  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.    JITDSON. 

culiar  expression  of  her  own.  'Then  give 
me  one  more  kiss ;'  and  we  exchanged  that 
token  of  love  for  the  last  time.  Another  hour 
passed, — life  continued  to  recede, — and  she 
ceased  to  breathe.  For  a  moment  I  traced 
her  upward  flight,  and  thought  of  the  wonders 
which  were  opening  to  her  view.  I  then 
closed  her  sightless  eyes,  dressed  her,  for  the 
last  time,  in  the  drapery  of  death ;  and  being 
quite  exhausted  with  many  sleepless  nights,  I 
threw  myself  down  and  slept.  On  awaking  in 
the  morning,  I  saw  the  children  standing  and 
weeping  around  the  body  of  their  dear  mother, 
then,  for  the  first  time,  inattentive  to  their 
cries.  In  the  course  of  the  day,  a  coffin  was 
procured  from  the  shore,  in  which  I  placed  all 
that  remained  of  her  whom  I  had  so  much 
loved  ;  and  after  a  prayer  had  been  offered  by 
a  dear  brother  minister  from  the  town,  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Bertram,  we  proceeded  in  boats  to 
the  shore.  There  we  were  met  by  the  Colo- 
nial chaplain,  and  accompanied  to  the  burial- 
ground  by  the  adherents  and  friends  of  Mr. 
Bertram,  and  a  large  concourse  of  the  inhabit- 
ants. They  had  prepared  the  grave  in  a  beau- 
tiful, shady  spot,  contiguous  to  the  grave  of 
Mrs.  Chater,  a  missionary  from  Ceylon,  who 
had  died  in  similar  circumstances  on  her  pas- 


THE  CHRISTIAN'S  DEATH.  247 

sage  home.  There  I  saw  her  safely  deposited ; 
and  in  the  language  of  prayer,  which  we  had 
often  presented  together  at  the  throne  of  grace, 
I  blessed  God  that  her  body  had  attained  the 
repose- of  the  grave,  and  her  spirit  the  repose 
of  Paradise.  After  the  funeral,  the  dear  friends 
of  Mr.  Bertram  took  me  to  their  houses  and 
their  hearts ;  and  their  conversation  and  pray- 
ers afforded  me  unexpected  relief  and  conso- 
lation. But  I  was  obliged  to  hasten  on  board 
ship,  and  we  immediately  went  to  sea.  On 
the' following  morning  no  vestige  of  the  island 
was  discernible  in  the  distant  horizon.  For  a 
few  days,  in  the  solitude  of  my  cabin,  with  my 
poor  children  crying  around  me,  I  could  not 
help  abandoning  myself  to  heart-breaking  sor- 
row. But  the  promises  of  the  gospel  came  to 
my  aid,  and  faith  stretched  her  view  to  the 
bright  world  of  eternal  life,  .and  anticipated  a 
happy  meeting  with  those  beloved  beings, 
whose  bodies  are  mouldering  at  Amherst  and 
St.  Helena. 

I  exceedingly  regret  that  there  is  no  portrait 
of  the  second,  as  of  the  first  Mrs.  Judson. 
Her  soft  blue  eye,  her  mild  aspect,  her  lovely 
face  and  elegant  form,  have  never  been  delin- 
eated on  canvass.  They  must  soon  pass  away 
from  the  memory,  even  of  her  children ;  but 


248  MEMOIR    OF    SARAH    B.   JUDSON. 

they  will  remain  for  ever  enshrined  in  her  hus- 
band's heart. 

To  my  friends  at  St.  Helena,  I  am  under 
great  obligations.  Receiving  the  body  of  the 
deceased  from  my  hands  as  a  sacred  deposit, 
they  united  with  our  kind  captain,  in  defraying 
all  the  expenses  of  the  funeral,  and  promised 
to  take  care  of  the  grave,  and  superintend  the 
erection  of  the  grave-stones,  which  I  am  to 
forward  ;  and  on  which  I  propose  to  place  the 
following  inscription  : — 

Sacred  to  the  Memory  of  Sarah  B.  Judson, 
member  of  the  American  Baptist  Mission  to 
Burmah  ;  formerly  wife  of  the  Rev.  George  D. 
Boardman,  of  Tavoy,  and  lately,  wife  of  the 
Rev.  Adoniram  Judson,  of  Maulmain, — who 
died  in  this  port  Sept.  1,  1845,  on  her  passage 
to  the  United  States,  in  the  42d  year  of  her 
age,  and  the  21st  of  her  missionary  life. 

She  sleeps  sweetly  here  on  this  rock  of  the  ocean, 
Away  from  the  home  of  her  youth,  ' 

And  far  from  the  land  where  with  heartfelt  devotion, 
She  scattered  the  bright  beams  of  truth." 


A    TRIBUTE.  249 


A  TRIBUTE. 

OFT   ST.    HELENA,   ATJQtTST,    1846. 

Blow  softly,  gales  !  a  tender  sigh 

Is  flung  upon  your  wing  ; 
Lose  not  the  treasure,  as  ye  fly, 
Bear  it  where  love  and  beauty  lie, 

Silent  and  withering. 

Flow  gently,  waves  !  a  tear  is  laid 
Upon  your  heaving  breast ; 

Leave  it  within  yon  dark  rock's  shade, 

Or  weave  it  in  an  iris  braid, 
To  crown  the  Christian's  rest. 

Bloom,  ocean-isle  !  lone  ocean-isle  ! 

Thou  keep'st  a  jewel  rare  ; 
Let  rugged  rock  and  dark  defile, 
Above  the  slumbering  stranger  smile, 

And  deck  her  couch  with  care. 


Weep,  ye  bereaved !  a  dearer  head 

Ne'er  left  the  pillowing  breast ; 
The  good,  the  pure,  the  lovely  fled, 
When,  mingling  with  the  shadowy  dead, 
She  meekly  went  to  rest. 


250  MEMOIR    OP    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

Mourn,  Burmah,  mourn  !  a  bow  which  span- 

Thy  cloud,  has  passed  away  ;  [ned 

A  flower  has  withered  on  thy  sand, 
A  pitying  spirit  left  thy  strand  ; 
A  saint  has  ceased  to  pray. 

Angels,  rejoice  !  another  string 

Has  caught  the  strains  above  ; 
Rejoice,  rejoice  !  a  new-fledged  wing 
Around  the  Throne  is  hovering, 
In  sweet,  glad,  wondering  love. 

Blow,  blow,  ye  gales  !  wild  billows  roll ! 

Unfurl  the  canvass  wide  ! 
On !  where  she  laboured  lies  our  goal ; — 
Weak,  timid,  frail,  yet  would  my  soul 

Fain  be  to  hers  allied. 


T\ 


